On moving

I derive some pretty serious satisfaction from using up the last of something and throwing it away.  You can imagine how excited I've been each and every time I pitch another used-up item as we prepare to move.  A couple weeks ago I swore to Kent that I wasn't going to buy groceries again until after we moved.  Then we ran out of toilet paper.  And milk.  Twice.  But besides the absolute staples I've been trying to get creative using up random things from the freezer and pantry...and now our fridge, pantry, and freezer are nearly empty.  And so is my heart.  Not all the way empty.  Just a little bit empty.

You guys, I have been getting soooo excited with this whole idea of moving.  To a brand-spankin' NEW house, nonetheless.  As moving day approaches I'm starting to feel a bit of a pang in my heart.  The kids have been fairly vocal about their anxiety over leaving friends.  I've tried my best cheery voice and mommy-isms to calm their fears.  "You'll make new friends, and your old friends will still be friends.  You can never have too many friends you know!"  But as I walked over to retrieve Kylee from a neighbor's house the other day the tears started to well up in my eyes.  There's a certain easiness about this neighborhood.  A very certain degree of comfort.  And a sadness that comes with leaving a place we've called home for the last six plus years.  The first home that Kent and I ever owned together.  A sadness that comes with leaving the treehouse Kent worked so hard to build, the kitchen he remodeled and the friends that we've grown so close to.

Sure the perfectly nice house we're moving to is in a perfectly nice neighborhood and is practically on top of a perfectly nice school that will be filled with perfectly nice kids for mine to be friends with.  Almost certainly there will be no snakes living out my new front door.  But be assured, dear readers, we are not moving to a "better" neighborhood.

I will miss my friends.  I will miss the backyard neighbor girls getting away with shouting from their backyard towards our house, "Kylee, Kylee!!!" every five minutes until she either comes out and plays or another neighbor shouts back, "She's not home, she's at the pool!".  I will miss neighbors bringing me donuts on Saturday mornings because, she says, "I don't cook on Saturdays and you looked like you could use a donut." I will miss impromptu get togethers around the neighbor's fire pit.  I will miss knowing right where to go if I need to borrow some sugar.

The adjustment will be tough, but I believe a fresh start is good for everyone now and then.  Here's to making new friends, but keeping the old.

Old friends, come visit me, k??? :)