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Oh this week was so hard, friends. We know that we are doing what we are supposed to be doing - if anything, the twelve hours on the market was confirmation of that. But we have loved this little house. And this little house has loved us.
So we began our last week in this house with lots of tears and lots of trepidation. The tears because we were moving. The trepidation because we weren't sure where we were going. Mom and Dad's closing was delayed and we were supposed to be moving in with them for the three weeks before we closed on our new house.
As of right now, we have no idea was is going to happen.
Last Friday night Pizza and Movie Night. My kids count down the week to Fridays so we can have our picnic on the family room floor with pizza. It's one of our most beloved family traditions. I could barely eat during this one - I was such a sentimental mess. We started this tradition on this floor with just one little kid and now there are three of them.
Last time hanging out on his bunk bed in his first little room! We had to dismantle it to get it through the doorway. :)
Moving weekend began with me packing up our whole house like crazy. I found Parker here - he was NOT handling me packing up all our stuff well at ALL. Poor baby. He does much better with gradual change.
Jon picked up the moving truck and THAT was cool, so Parker decided maybe this moving thing was too terrible. The boys loved running up and down the gangplank and yelling like crazy people inside it because it echoed so much. ;)
Almost eight years ago, Jon and I got the keys to our first little home, went over so excitedly that very night and ate peanut butter and jelly on the floor of what felt like a huge, echoey, empty house. So it was only fitting that we closed this chapter the way we began it.
Last dinner in our first home.
How things have changed! We are so blessed. I bawled through all of dinner just thinking about all the things that had happened in that little home.
One, two, three sweet babies sleeping in their first home for the last time.
I rocked Eisley to sleep and I just couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop remembering. We started in such an empty, echoing house and the house was suddenly empty of furniture and echoing again. Only this time, all I could hear was the echoes of our time there. Babies giggling, taking their first steps, learning how to play patty-cake, crying because they needed a kiss on their owie. I rocked Eisley, kissed her, tucked her in bed and sat for a long time just remembering.
