This last week has been quite eventful. We made an offer on a house that was accepted, and listed our home for sale the next day.
Having built our current home, we never went through the traditional process of buying and selling. It’s fun, exciting, nerve racking, stressful, and exhausting; not exactly as it appears on House Hunters. Midst the excitement for buying our what-we-hope-to-be-“forever home,” I find myself feeling a little sad about leaving behind our current home.
It’s where we picked out flooring, counter tops, and paint colors to make four white walls our own; where we bought grown up furniture and said goodbye to (most of) the generous hand-me-downs; where we met our neighbors who have become friends.
It’s where we played competitive games of flip cup with our friends at our annual Halloween party; where Brian spent several days building our deck with his Dad; where we hosted our first Christmas Eve for family.
It’s where I took a positive pregnancy test on a Thursday morning and woke Brian to share the news; where Brian stained a bookshelf that had been in my family for four generations for Bridget’s nursery; where we left at 3:45 am on May 29 and came home two days later with our 10 pound bundle of joy; where she rolled over, sat up, and crawled for the first time.
It’s where we come home at the end of each day and kiss each other good night, rock Bridget to sleep, and roll over to a sounding alarm the next day for work.
It’s our home. And although this may sound selfish, it’s difficult to imagine it being someone else’s. I know, I know. I can’t have my cake and it eat it, too. So, I will file the many, many memories we’ve made in this home and carry them with me to the new house. The house that we’ll make a home in time.