12.06.2017

emotional rambling instead of packing

When we moved into our townhouse, I was 24 years old, married for 2 years, and a few months into a new job I was actually enjoying. I was all about traveling and concerts and trying new restaurants.

We're moving out and I'm 28, married for 6.5 years, and the stay at home mom of a giggly 2 year old. The last concert I went to was a year and a half ago, I don't know the last time I traveled that wasn't to visit family (which is still fun!), and what are restaurants?

What I'm trying to say is, a lot has changed since we moved in here!

We have lived so much life in this place. Friends and family from all over the country have stayed here with us or come to visit. I hosted multiple blog friends here who I had never met before. I found out I was pregnant here, survived months of nonstop vomiting, and brought our baby home from the hospital. I nursed her in bed while James played the guitar and we watched the sunrise through the 3rd floor window. She took her first step on the carpet between the living room and kitchen. I spent the last few months of my pregnancy putting her nursery together little by little every evening after work. I rearranged furniture and pictures every year. And when we signed our first lease here, we planned to be here only a year. Haaaaa.

I worked so hard to make this place feel like home, and now we're packing and I have to undo everything I worked so hard on. IT IS SO HARD. It's for a good reason, it will be worth it, but it's hard to pack up the place that holds such strong memories. I know I'll still have the memories, but they feel less tangible when it's not the same space. I packed up Gracie's room tonight and I thought it was going to kill me. I have such strong memories of putting it all together. Every evening I would put furniture together or hang something on the wall or make something, and it helped ease the anxiety of having a baby. Her room has changed a little since then and I have plans for her new one, but it's still sad to close this chapter of her life.

I'll miss our vaulted ceilings, close proximity to everything we love, our wood burning fireplace, the neighborhood where I took my nightly walks for years, THE MAINTENANCE MEN. Who will fix my fridge if it dies on Thanksgiving morning again? Not having maintenance men feels like moving out of my parents' house. Suddenly we have to be responsible and figure things out and it's a little unnerving. I say this half joking, half serious.

I've moved many times and it never gets easier. However, this is the first time I can say that we're moving for a good reason and I know good things are ahead of us. No more crying in my closet while the movers load the boxes in the truck! Well, that might actually happen. I'm overly nostalgic and sentimental because that's just who I am. So thank you for reading my emotional thoughts on leaving Gracie's first home and the place I nearly burned down when the pot neighbor was still living here.

Actually, you probably aren't still reading, but that's ok.

I knew I was going to do this. I knew I was FINALLY going to buy a house and then get emotional about leaving. So let's all go to my new house and jump on the floor and scream because WE CAN BE AS LOUD AS WE WANT.

But if you could bring some air fresheners, that'd be great. It still reeks of paint and old churches and I'm afraid it will smell that way for all eternity.

7 comments:

  1. When we moved this year I sat in our old, empty master bedroom and bawled. I figured we'd be in that old house for 5 years- we were there for 4. I also thought we'd remodel the whole thing and bring a kid or two home to that house. Nope, lol. But that's ok because we had countless parties and it was Lylee's first home with her forever family (the dog had a rough puppyhood) and Enzo was brought home to that house. It was *definitely* our home for four great years. And it's tough to turn that page <3

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  2. I've often wondered if I'll feel this way when we eventually move. I didn't get sentimental AT. ALL. about the first apartment Isaiah and I had together, but that's because we were the property managers and it was an utter nightmare (I think I might have told you some of those stories? I can't remember...) But this house...as much as I'm annoyed by it at times - the lack of natural light/a garage/kitchen counter space/closet storage/ETC!...it's where we brought our baby home for the first time, and that alone is enough to make anyone start feeling all the feels.

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  3. even thinking about leaving our house we live in now brings tears to my eyes. it offends me to think that another family might live here someday, because THEY WILL NOT LOVE IT AS MUCH AS I DO. i know someday that we will outgrow it and have to leave, but we don't think about it ever ever ever. i don't know how you're keeping it together.

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  4. Moving is always so bittersweet! We only lived in various apartments once married for 2 years each, and both times we moved it was a little sad for me to know that our entire routine would change, that we wouldn't be seeing the usual people on our walks each day, even that we wouldn't be going to the same Aldi for groceries! I can't imagine how much harder it would be to move if we had lived longer in one of those homes.

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  5. Moving is hard. I always get emotional about moving. Our apartment in China was pretty much terrible and still it was a sad feeling leaving, it's hard to know that this place that has been "home" will never be home again. I'm much more sentimental about our yellow farmhouse home in Michigan...that's probably because we had more time there and it was actually cozy. Memories get attached to specific rooms and places within the home and it's so weird to have to leave those places forever, even if, like you guys, it's for the most excellent of reasons.

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  6. Yes to the maintenance men. I always thought that there was a sort of "intangible equity" in renting because whenever something breaks it is NOT YOUR PROBLEM, and that's worth its weight in gold.

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