We have wanted to move for a long time. With three bedrooms the seams are beginning to gape, and the thread is groaning under massive pressure. One ill-timed bending over to tie our shoes will mean an explosive split and a glimpse of our polka-dotted undies.
The fire was lit under us back in December, when we learned that I was pregnant with baby #6. There would be no place to put the baby, even under intense bedroom shuffling and creative stacking. We began to get our ducks in rows, pulling our credit reports, fixing errors (my name is not Diane), and looking forward to life with a new look and possibly prettier bathroom fixtures.
With the loss of the baby a big, sopping wet blanket was thrown on our fire. Suddenly, moving seemed much less imparitive. When one dream is shattered, others seem to shatter too. It must be the flying shards.
I can’t really pinpoint what motivated us to pick up where we left off, but several weeks ago we began earnestly pursuing our dream of moving again. It will be difficult to leave this home of six years behind. So many major events happened under this roof. But we feel it is time to create some breathing space for everyone.
🙂 not just breathing space, but space for new memories. Bigger space = bigger better memories? One can only move forward
I cried when we moved from our last house. If we move I know I’ll cry again, lock those memories up in your heart and they’ll keep forever.