Dear Old Girl: a note to our first family home,
It’s been said that the biggest kind of love is the kind that grows in smaller houses, smaller houses where there is less room to separate you and your loved ones. Well, old girl— you may be 'small' and considered too cramped for us at this stage in life but you’ve seen a lot of wonderful things happen over the better half of a decade. The house where the first 'I love yous' where echoed, the house with walls that immediately made me feel warm and at home.
You’ve watched us fall in love and learn how to live together as one. You've seen the two of us stretch and grow, debate, disagree and love fiercely. You’ve seen 4 am wake up calls with a pregnancy test in hand, sleepy eyes and squeals of delight. You’ve seen bags packed, felt the weight of pacing, and waiting for babies to be brought home from the hospital. You’ve had a front row seat to sleepless nights and silent midnight tears of self-doubt coming from a rocking chair. You’ve worn milk spills, splatters of baby food and countless messes— some of which we won’t even talk about, sorry for the extra smelly ones. Your strong and sturdy hardwood floors have held up little ones as they learned how to crawl, side scoot, and finally, take their first steps (all three of them).
You’ve watched us fall in love and learn how to live together as one. You've seen the two of us stretch and grow, debate, disagree and love fiercely. You’ve seen 4 am wake up calls with a pregnancy test in hand, sleepy eyes and squeals of delight. You’ve seen bags packed, felt the weight of pacing, and waiting for babies to be brought home from the hospital. You’ve had a front row seat to sleepless nights and silent midnight tears of self-doubt coming from a rocking chair. You’ve worn milk spills, splatters of baby food and countless messes— some of which we won’t even talk about, sorry for the extra smelly ones. Your strong and sturdy hardwood floors have held up little ones as they learned how to crawl, side scoot, and finally, take their first steps (all three of them).
You’ve watched me try and navigate myself through your kitchen. And, Lord knows I’ve boiled over more pots of water onto your floor than I can count-- all while I probably mumbling something sarcastic under my breath about how tiny and cramped your kitchen is-- when really, it was just enough for me to learn and grow in.
Your walls have been scorched by the flames of a small house fire and covered in soot but you kept standing. You've heard the loud aftershocks of giggles, tickle fights, and timeouts. You've seen broken arms in the backyard and a busted chin in the dining room. Yes, I know, they are little girls but they play hard and we are defying stereotypes over here-- at every bend.
You’ve watched our growing pains grow over the past two years and have probably heard our silent prayers for more space. So, old girl- as we leave you and move on to the next chapter in our lives just know that we were blessed by you and we leave behind all of our stories and memories etched into the walls right there between the horsehair plaster and mesh wire (probably some red marker too). You are, forever a piece of us- and us, forever a piece of you.
Your walls have been scorched by the flames of a small house fire and covered in soot but you kept standing. You've heard the loud aftershocks of giggles, tickle fights, and timeouts. You've seen broken arms in the backyard and a busted chin in the dining room. Yes, I know, they are little girls but they play hard and we are defying stereotypes over here-- at every bend.
You’ve watched our growing pains grow over the past two years and have probably heard our silent prayers for more space. So, old girl- as we leave you and move on to the next chapter in our lives just know that we were blessed by you and we leave behind all of our stories and memories etched into the walls right there between the horsehair plaster and mesh wire (probably some red marker too). You are, forever a piece of us- and us, forever a piece of you.
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