There was a big change in my life recently. My husband and I just sold our house, the first one we ever bought. It's been a bittersweet experience.
|The Little Blue House|
Bitter, in that it's been a real pain in the butt to update our little old cottage and keep it clean enough for showings while running around after two little boys. Bitter, in that we love the individuality that made this house special, the fun nooks and odd crannies. Bitter, in that my second son was born into this house and it's the only home my older son can remember.
It's where they learned to walk, to run, to talk, to argue, to laugh, to tell a joke and to make scrambled eggs. That house is where they learned the importance of weeding and watering a garden, the first time they ever saw a plant grown from seed to fruition.
In that yard they learned the difference between thyme and rosemary and lavender, and that mulberries are sweetest when they are plump and almost black.
The first time my older son realized he could propel his own swing with the power of his body and gravity was on the playset in our backyard.
If that driveway could speak, it would tell the tale of countless spills and tumbles, as my sons learned to balance on their first bikes, skateboards, scooters, and occasionally just their own two feet. I'm sure it would stay mum on the time I ran over my younger son's tricycle while backing out of the driveway, however. (It wasn't my fault! I told them to put away their toys.)
It was here that I finally managed to coax a tiny lilac bush into blooming, even though it only produced a measly smattering of flowers each spring for two weeks. But I had my lilacs!
That house has borne the brunt of two little boys growing, learning, making mistakes and winning small victories. There are juice stains on the carpet, bloodstains on the ceiling fan (don't even ask), bumps and scrapes and scratches galore adorn the walls, floors and windowsills; each one is its own story.
I'll miss the fireplace made of river rock where we spent many winter nights watching the fire crackle and hiss.
I'll miss the window over the kitchen sink where I could see the boys shrieking with giggles as they played in the sprinkler.
I'll miss my little soft yellow and white office at the top of the stairs, with its pretty view of pine trees and the weather-worn brick of the chimney.
I won't miss the dearth of friendly neighbors, sidewalks and families with small children. Despite the good times we had in the Little Blue House, my sons are growing older and the lack of other kids their age in our neighborhood is starting to become an issue.
My husband and I began to feel guilty that they couldn't just run down the street to a buddy's house and ask him or her to come out and play. It was something that both of us loved about our own childhoods, and wish for our boys. So it was time to make a move.
We've decided to build in a new community only minutes away from the Little Blue House. The boys will stay in their school, we can keep our household close to my parents (who live nearby) and the new community has a large percentage of young families. We're excited, full of hope and pride and butterflies in the stomach. Pretty soon they will break ground on the new house and I can't wait.
It feels good.
It feels right.
A new chapter.
How about you? When's the last time you broke out of your routine and opened a new chapter in your life?