These Walls...

Our rental house has been waiting for us.  Clean and empty it sits.  I've been moving trunk-loads of items (well, Lucy, Max and I have all been doing it, and you can guess how much help they provide!) since I first moved the beach towels, and today I took a large chunk of my wardrobe to my new closet, and this evening my mother-in-law and I assembled a bunk bed for Joe (it was a Craigslist purchase that the seller offered to deliver. Score!).  So, there has been slow progress, and I should mention that until today my only moving supplies were two laundry baskets and a Costco diaper box, but Katie and Adam (and Katie's sister Betsy) hooked me up with boxes (thanks!).  Now the real packing begins.  Tomorrow morning we have a friend bringing a trailer to get started on the furniture. 

Home is where our beds are, right?  So, if my bed goes to the new house tomorrow, then I officially live in the rental house, meaning that I no longer live in my current house, making tonight my last night in this house.  I can't get emotional about this house, because it is just a house, and also because I am too tired.  I can't get emotional about this house, because I have too much work to do.  But, if I were to let some emotions get involved, I'd think about how a family was built here, within these walls.  Devon and I began our marriage here, and, of course, Joe was here too!  I became a wife and a mom here.  I climbed up and down the three levels with a big pregnant belly, and later I would climb all of the stairs while holding my sleeping baby, hoping that she wouldn't wake before I could put her in bed to finish a nap.  And on these floors she learned to crawl and to walk, and she fell down the flights of stairs many, many times.  In these rooms we made space for one more tiny person, our Bubs, who has grown to be a wild-child, determined to tear the walls down!  And he always wakes up on the climb between the car and the bed!  Within these walls it becomes quiet at night, and my husband and I are finally alone, until our babies migrate from their beds to our bed and get comfy between us.  A king size bed is built for four, right?

Here in this house we've celebrated birthdays.  We've decorated Christmas trees.  We've cried and argued and yelled (yes, we argue and yell.  Well, I do, at least.  And Joe usually does too).  We've been sick, we've made tremendous messes, and we've peed on the carpet (Lucy and Max, specifically).  We've painted the walls yellow.  We've never had the windows washed (in over 5 years! Not a single washing! Bad!).  We've killed 7 mice (and to be fair, it has been a couple of years since the last mouse-sighting).  We've eaten lots of pizza and lots of cereal.

We've lived in this house, and that is why I can't get emotional.  That is why I need to focus on the fact that after 5 years, we've only payed interest on our evil mortgage.  And the layout of our townhouse isn't ideal- Joe's bedroom is in the basement, separate from the rest of the family.  And the laundry is also in the basement, which is a long way to transfer dirty clothes down and clean clothes up.  Our front door is on a busy street, and today Max opened the door (it is usually locked, but today he found it unlocked) and ran toward the street, giving us a good scare.  And I am tired of the yellow walls.  And four toilets are really one- maybe even two- too many.  The windows are quite dirty, and I live in fear that the mice will return.  I focus on these facts, because I must now rest my head on my pillow and spend my final night here.  I can't get emotional, because walls are only walls.

New walls await us.