the house that built us

This is the house.

The house that we purchased in a hurry. We were young and silly and our first home sold in a week. {You know… in the glory days before the real estate crash.} The house that we certainly didn’t take for granted, but at first, it felt a little different as all new houses do.

One of the first photos I took in our house, right after we moved in. We had mattresses on the floor that night, and many nights after. With one little toddling boy. And one sweet fluffy white dog.

The house where that sweet little boy grew bigger, and we brought home a new baby girl.

The house for sleepless nights, and hard moments that challenged us while faltering through hazy days on that lack of sleep.

The house where we received a wakeup call after our first trick baby, and now we had a colicky one. And right when the colicky one came home, the easy little boy stopped sleeping too. We took shifts. We stumbled through it with coffee and just barely functioning.

This is where we learned how challenging it could be to mange two.

This is the house for potty training, and sweet baby cheeks. 

For first days of preschool, all decked out and ready.

For artistry in unexpected forms and permanent markers on babies when I turned my back for a split second.

And learning to laugh at these moments.

For welcome home banners made just for daddy, and messes from finger paints. Play-Doh jibbles all over the floor, and grass covered feet from long days in the back yard and treks to the park and dog drool.

Of cheering on new milestones and accomplishments: each toddle and word.

And just when we thought this was it, because our life was crazy enough… Just when that colicky baby finally started sleeping at nine months, we found we were expecting another.

This is the house where we brought home our favorite little surprise.

This is the house where we learned to survive. And then eventually, learned to do more than that.

This is the house of belly laughs. Sweet snuggles together under the covers on a Saturday morning. Of stomach viruses. Of 2,525 loads of laundry. Family movie nights with popcorn and apples.

Of more first days of preschool where a sweet big brother watched out for his baby sister.

Where our children learned compassion and friendship, and so much more.

This is the house where we captured the magic of ten Christmas seasons.

This is the house where we learned to slow down, and appreciate these moments.

Of gallops through the sprinkler on stagnant summer days. Of echoes of laughter off the walls and floors.

And 12,000 squeaky swinging sessions under the old pecan tree.

This is where a house became a home. With lightsaber wars, and pillow forts.

Dance parties and hamburgers on the grill for cookouts. Hide and seek, and dress up tea parties worthy of dignitaries.

And the world’s most elaborately impressive car ramps.

This is the house of rare quiet moments. But when they were, they were for sleepy pauses and deeper conversations.

This is the house where foundations were built.

This is the house where we had birthday pancakes for dinner… when it wasn’t anyone’s birthday.

The smells of fresh cooked bacon and experimental new recipes. And gathering around the table with dear friends and family for countless meaningful conversations.

Of glow bracelets and s’mores. Of new and old traditions that we will cherish for the rest of our lives.

This is the house of 5 kajillion dirty dishes. The clanging of pots and pans and wild imaginations.

Where we gathered in the living room for family game nights, and argued over who got to be the thimble. I have no idea what it is, about that thimble. Okay. Maybe that’s just me.

This is the house of squeals of delight over lost teeth. And subsequent tooth fairy visits.

Where we handed down our passion for reading, and instilling it in our children every way we know how, as best as we possibly could.

Where we decided to venture into the journey of home school, and had so many struggles and victories and A-HA moments together, we will cherish them forever.

This is the house where we learned what it means to wait.

This is the house where we found our inspiration. Our passion. Our voice in what we wanted to do.

Where we decided to work together, and that we could actually pull it off. To take a leap of faith, and grow a business of our own.

To push ourselves and each other.

This is the house where we learned who we are.

This is where we realized that it’s true what they say. Don’t blink, because we watched in amazement while our babies grew. Much too quickly.

There were hardships.

There were heated arguments. And then apologies, and working through it together as a team. There were tears and lots of breathless, hysterical laughter.

There were the ins and outs of struggling and choosing to grow together, or apart.

Of late night conversations in the back yard over the cadence of crickets… dreaming of the future. Reminiscing over the past.

This is where we decided to dig in together in the dirty trenches of marriage, and came out on the other side realizing how beautiful even the dirty parts can be.

And Mario Kart battles. Lots of Mario Kart battles. Those are important, too.

Of 10 different halloweens, and coordinating costumes.

This is where we fought for our family and our covenant together.

Of giggles, melted popsicles, skinned knees and bee stings.

This is where we transformed and evolved together.

This is the house where we said some hard goodbyes. And learned about heartache and grief. This is where we learned that the hardest part of heartache, is when your children feel it, too.

This is the house where we were silly together and worked through the hard parts together.

And this is the house where our family grew with two more fur babies who needed a home, with a lot to live up to in their big sister.

This is where it’s hard to say goodbye to a house that has been a wonderful home.

But this is also where the next chapter finally begins.

We’ve had our final hurrahs. Said our final goodbyes.  Packed each box and cried through the cathartic process of packing up each room. Ten years is a very long time. Thirteen total… our roots run deep.

We went to a local Baseball game a few nights ago with friends, and bought out the local gift shop with souvenir shirts for everyone. And there I was, crying in the middle of a souvenir store, like a crazy person over T-shirts. When we got to the car, I burst out that it had been hard, but Montgomery has also been good to us, too. And we all cried. And then I looked at my phone and in that exact moment, a friend in Nashville had left us a message, telling us all about how she’d just had dinner right down the street from our new house. And then gone out for ice-cream, right around the corner. And while they were out, ran into a friend, who she didn’t realize lives three doors down from our new house.

And it was the perfect set of words over the perfect little voicemail that I listened to three times in a row. Because the future is bright.

Scary… but bright.

That house, the one that felt so different at first, is the house that has been very good to us. The one we’ve called home for ten years. We left our mark, on a beam in the attic. As a way to say goodbye… a way to let the kids leave their names on the only place they’ve ever known as home. This is the house we’re handing over, and our prayer is that it’s to a family who will create their very own kind of special memories here. Who will grow and make their own magic.

And we know that if this house was such a good place for us, then the next one will be all that much more… it’s that delicate mixture of what makes life so bitter sweet. It will become the backdrop to the second act. We can’t wait to begin.

This is the house that built us.