We are about one week away from our big move. BIG because of the sheer amount of stuff we have accumulated over the last seven years, not because we are moving cross country (we are actually only moving about two miles down the road).
We sort of fell upon the new house. We were not sure what our living situation was going to look like next year, and I had just assumed we would stay in our current place even though I felt like we were already bursting at the seams with just one child. Who knew that a once spacious house for two people could turn into baby-land overnight, full of bottles and toys and diapers and all kinds of baby gear? I suppose anyone with kids could tell you that.
We have been in such a flurry of packing and renovating the last two weeks, I haven’t had the time to feel sad about leaving (or feel excited about all of the new memories we will build in the new house). The truth is, we have spent the last seven years building our life together in this house. When we moved, we had not even been married a year. Between the two of us, we have been through seven job transitions since living in this house. We both grieved a miscarriage and celebrated the expansion of our family from two to three with the addition of our daughter, Aliya. We have had our share of lovely neighbors and not so lovely; we have celebrated many anniversaries and birthdays, forged new relationships and strengthened existing ones, and experienced our share of broken relationships. Through everything, nothing has been wasted, and I will really miss this place.
One week left. One more week of packing. One more week (possibly more) of putting the finishing touches on the new house. Three more months to get settled, nest, and prepare for our newest little addition. Many more years of building memories and shared experiences.
And the adventure continues…