When Mark and I started out together, our mantra was basically the words from Billy Joel's "You're My Home". We both grew up in La Porte: me from 6 months on, him from 1st grade on. However, once we left for college, we became a bit like gypsies. We moved 14 times from High School graduation to 10 years later when we had our first son. And each time was fine. We had each other and not much else.
Things are different now.
Our oldest was born in one apartment and we moved to our condo just before he turned two. He doesn't remember it.
Our youngest was born a week after we moved into the condo. We lived there for 5 years. The boys remember some of it, but not much.
We moved to our house during Spring Break of Will's first grade year. Matt would start kindergarten in the fall. The condo had some of this too, but the boys will remember this house for their childhood.
This is the house where they will remember the footprints the Easter Bunny left when he hid their Easter baskets.
This is the house the Tooth Fairy left glitter behind when she replaced their teeth with a dollar bill.
This is the house where we lived when we drove to cut down our Christmas trees, placing it in different places as our book collections required more space. The place we created our own fireplace with construction paper and tape, so we could hang our stocking on a fireplace.
This house is where Will learned to make amazing cookies and Matt learned to perfect our homemade spaghetti sauce.
This house is where Praxis, our first cat died.
This house has the lilac bushes I love, the day lillies from my mother-in-law's garden, and the two tree's Matthew planted as seedlings.
This house is where they did homework.
This house is where I read them stories every night until Will was in 8th grade and that homework took over evenings.
This house is where I created birthday cakes they tried to make more difficult for me every year.
This house is where they lined up every Rescue Hero, Transformer, and stuffed cat they had, carefully lining them up on opposing sides though they worked together to decide which side advanced and when. And the three stuffed cats that sat on top of the Karaoke machine to announce the battle as it happened.
This house is where we had family game night every Sunday, taking turns each week picking the game.
This house has the yard where I took family pictures every Mother's Day.
The marks on the door jamb mark their height from every first day of school.
This house is where I heard, "Hey Mom, look at that sunset," because they knew I'd love it.
This house has every memory of school and friends and family the boys will remember.
And this house is now for sale.
The boys are both going to be in college in the fall. There is no reason for me to live separately from my husband (who is also their dad) as we have for the last 7 years. No reason to have two separate living expenses. No ability to afford to do so. So, it is for sale.
The boys are both working at camp this summer and haven't seen it emptied of all but the beds and piano. They knew it was happening, and started packing, but hubby and I have finished it. We cleared it out and moved every thing to storage.
We can't buy until we sell. So that is still to come.
If it were still just me and hubby, I would say I will miss all that that house was to us all, but wherever we both are is home. But in this Choose your own Adventure life, we have chosen the page to turn to for our boys. The next home we have will likely just be the house Mom and Dad live in for them. And that breaks my heart.
I could, and may eventually, write another blog about my neurosis concerning thinking we've ruined our boys' lives, but this one is about the four walls we four grew up together in. This blog is about the house that is for sale.
I hope the family that buys it has as much love for it as we did and always will.