If you’ve been following along here, then you know that we’ve been along time coming with our addition.
It’s so funny how things change in size when they’re being built, and right now this looks so small. But you can read all about our journey thus far, here.
And here’s how the outside currently looks – we have a whole update coming next week!
Today I’m sharing a little tradition that we have, whenever we remodel or add onto the house. This is the letter it holds inside:
This is a message in a bottle.
A bottle crossing a proverbial ocean, if you will.
The bottle holds this tiny message from a little family, and it’s crossing an ocean of time. In hopes that one day in these walls, it will be found again. Time changes things and propels us forward. And things are just things… they come and go. Maybe one day this bath will be remodeled again by a new inhabitant. Maybe one day, it will be torn down to build something new. We know that things change. But the romantic in us, hopes that it’s someone who will love this house as much as we have.
Because while we’ve now taken on the main level, basement, upstairs and pool room… {and don’t forget the cabana or hideaway} we haven’t moved into this new addition yet. We’ve grown with this house. Weathered a pandemic, and with blood, sweat, and tears we’ve already poured so much into it… We’ve made it into a real home, in which we plan to stay.
In this little time capsule you’ll find photos of the house as we found it. Older than us, and built in 1976 – we purchased it in 2016,{Currently December 2021} it needed a little love.
Here you’ll find a few photos of the house as we changed it. And a family in the middle of a great new adventure. There are two more capsules if you’re looking… one behind the kitchen cabinets and another behind the entryway door to the pool room. They’re snapshots of us, frozen in time.
We moved in, when Malone our youngest was 7. He’s twelve now. No, don’t blink. He loves playing with his friends and he’s just the sweetest kid, to say the least. He started middle school this year. He’s in the 6th grade, and he’s rocking the intimidating things like lockers and finding classes. Our Middle, Emerson, was 8 when we moved in. Now she’s 13, and turns 14 in January. I can’t believe she’ll be a freshman next year. She wants to start up her own business and loves scary movies and is a homebody at heart, even though she loves time with friends. Our oldest is sixteen and we’re watching him spread his wings. A 5th grader when we moved in, he’s doing really great with driving and enjoying all the responsibility that comes with it. His sense of humor is one for the books, and with his sensitivity and smarts, the sky’s the limit.
The very best part has been watching them grow. It’s a beautiful thing.
And the exciting thing is, while these little forms ask big questions about growing up… they get to choose.
But in the meantime, we just wish they’d stay little a while longer. Yesterday, they really were just toddlers.
They grow too fast.
This is little white house in a big, pretty yard that we stumbled upon when searching for a home, where we unexpectedly fell in love. It’s not even finished yet, but it’s held our dreams. And it’s already been the longest of journeys. But it’s our hopes that we’ve laid the strongest of foundations for the rest of their childhoods.
We want it to be remembered. This moment with tired eyes, dirty hands and aching backs, where we’re building something new to add on to an already really great little story. And not the house itself but really, what the house means to us. In hopes of something special. In hopes of passing something down that’s different. It’s more than a roof and studs and wiring and floors. It’s a foundation. So that one day, when they go back out into the world and struggle and maybe even fall a little as we all do, they remember home. And what we taught them here.
We’ve loved watching them grow and thrive, adapt and roll with some punches, as well. They’re strong, kind, resilient and hilarious. Maybe this message will find them again one day. We hope that wherever life takes them, they remember their roots. They have that solid foundation to build their own lives upon. And a soft place to land whenever they need to come back for a while.
This is the part where I feel a little vulnerable. It’s a harsh reminder, as I tell my children that maybe one day, when they have grandchildren of their own, this bottle will be discovered. I look in the mirror and see a little wrinkle, and think… I was just in college, wasn’t I? While it can be easy to get caught up in searching for those big moments, let’s not forget the little ones. Because those are the very best. The ones where we discover what really matters. Because it just gets better. Even with the hard parts.
So we’re burying a message in a bottle. Hiding it in the walls. Hoping that as we rebuild this house and piece it together, that it may be discovered on the other side of time.
We came from a harder place… And we love how we’ve grown from it.
This house. It’s a place of future memories and all the wonderful things that life is made of. A place of echoes of laughter and sweet meaningful conversations that mold who they are.
It’s been an amazing second act.
And it’s our hope that if you’re coming across this message in a bottle, that you can find a solid foundation with a soft place to land with a whole lot of love… wherever you are, too.
Yours Truly,
The Mills
This was our first time capsule circa 2016.
And our second, circa 2019.
Along with the day we purchased the house!
Don’t blink.
Printables: {about me yellow, about me plaid pink, about me blue}
As always, let us know if you use them… we’d love to hear! Have you ever left anything in the walls of your house… or found something instead? If walls could talk.
Have an inspired day!
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