I can not believe we’re moving out of this house in just a few short days.
No, not this house, this home. TH and I have lived in several different places together, but this was the first place I truly called “home“.
This home that we bought four short years ago when today seemed so far away.
This home with the badly stained carpet from four years of babies, toddlers, and big kids abusing it each day.
This home with crayon and marker-covered walls from one artistic toddler.
This home with the big ceilings that seemed to dwarf even the largest Christmas tree.
This home with the kitchen that has been filled with thousands of laughs around the dinner table, the smell of cookies and cupcakes baking, and the world’s loudest dishwasher.
This home with the living room where my little girl took her first steps.
This home with a dining room where our baby boy made his way into the world.
This home that has been filled with tears and laughter. Love and loss.
It’s not the biggest house. It isn’t magazine quality. We never even decorated it fully. But it’s ours. Our home.
I’m going to miss this home. And while I know we will love our next house and make it as much as a home as we can, it will never compare to this home. Our first home.
