It is not a done deal yet, but barring unforeseen circumstances we will close on a new house next month. There is so much to get excited about- a third bedroom, a parking space behind the new house, a second bathroom, and on and on. But right now I just feel nostalgic for our current apartment. Yes, nostalgia for the place we are still in. I miss it already, and we haven’t gone anywhere yet.
We bought this house about four years ago. It is an over/under duplex and we lived downstairs in the one bedroom apartment until Chicken was one. She slept in our room that entire year and now I have no idea how we managed that. Her crib was a few feet away from my side of the bed. Once she got old enough to pull herself up and look out over the edge of her crib, we were in trouble. At one point we rigged up a big sheet that hung down the side of the bed, so we could sloooowly roll over and try to sneak out of the room before she saw us in the morning. Hoping she would lie back down and go back to sleep. I’m pretty sure we both army crawled in and out of that room more than once.
Then we moved upstairs and Chicken had her own room. And we had our own room. Luxury! Joy! We could breath a little easier and sleep a lot easier. We got rid of a loveseat and a few bookcases to fit everything in our new place, where the addition of the second bedroom made our living area much smaller. We adjusted to a cozier kitchen. We got used to walking around to the back of the house and up the stairs, to get into our apartment.
After a six-month stint of housesitting in another part of town, we returned home to this apartment once again. This time, we had little Monkey with us as well. He napped in a moses basket for the first few months of his life and we would frequently put him under the dining table for naptime. Out of the way and less danger of his bigger sister dropping things on him while he slept.
This apartment is also where we taught our kids to share a bedroom. Monkey was about four months old, Chicken 2 years old, when we took the plunge. I distinctly remember going for a run one morning at 5:30, solely for the purpose of leaving the house and the two crying kids who were unsuccessfully (at that point) sharing a bedroom. My husband was home- I had to get out. I couldn’t take it. I was convinced this would never work. Or that maybe it would, but by then I would have lost my mind. I really truly thought “we just need to buy another house. Like, tomorrow”.
Because we had no other choice, we stuck it out and the kids really learned to sleep through each others’ crying and noises and share a room. Truly, this feels like one of the major victories in my life.
Another great part of living here? Our great neighbors. That’s how we met Becca, Alden, Lynne, James, Matt, Bethany, Joy and, now, Steven and Lisa. All great tenants and great friends. We’ve tried to teach the kids to have “quiet feet” so our neighbors downstairs wouldn’t be too hassled by us. When we were downstairs and Becca, Adlen, and (later) Lynne were upstairs, we would hear them hosting every single child on our block. Noisy, but a great noisy to hear. I love this house being a home for us and a second home for friends on the block.
So, it is bittersweet to move into another house. Bitter to leave this great, beautiful apartment with so many memories. Sweet to picture a new space with a little more elbow room for all of us and space for more memories to take root.
I know moving usually has mixed emotions with it. What has been helpful in easing the transition of a move, both logistically and emotionally? I’m gearing up for the whole gamut! I’d love some pointers.