Movin' on...

It has come to that moment in our life when we look around our little house and realize, it’s time to move.

When we bought her nine and a half years ago, our neighborhood was growing…there were lots of kids…the schools were good.  It was a well kept little subdivision.  It was nice and rural, and quiet.  We loved our little house in the back corner…that was completely screened in by trees.

In those nine and a half years, we’ve saw the our neighborhood turn from good to ‘yeah, I don’t want to move in there’.  The kids are all little hoodlums roaming the streets all hours of the night.  The school system sucks eggs to say the least.   Our neighbor hasn’t hauled his pile of pop cans off since we moved in…and has added a washer and a dryer to the mix in his backyard.  It’s no longer rural or quiet in that direction.  Overdevelopment has really hurt.  We are not going to get what we want out of this house.  We’ll get enough for a nice down payment on another one.

I love our little house…and she’s been great, but she is not where we are going to grow old.  And it makes me sad.

Like the dent in the windowsill in the kitchen…that’s from The Husband banging the crap out of it with a cutting board.

To the bathroom that I painted at 3am while the Husband was away at a military school.  Back in the days before The Toddler, I would stay up all night doing painting projects and home improvements.  Not so much anymore. 

The really crappy paint job that I did in the master bedroom.  I didn’t buy enough paint, didn’t/don’t like the color I did buy.  And was interrupted at 11pm by The Husband coming home two days earlier than he was supposed to.  He was not amused that the whole bedroom was upside down and he was exhausted from being up for 36 hours on a training mission.  Not my fault he came home early.  At least I was just PAINTING. 

The stain on the bedroom rug in the shape of a combat boot…from The Husband not letting his boot dressing dry completely before tromping across the carpet. 

It makes me ill to think of all the packing and cleaning we are going to have to do.

And moving.  I hate moving.  So wherever we move to, this is IT. 

I hate the loss of control and the disaster that it becomes. 

I do not relish the painting and cleaning, and repairing, and fixing, and cleaning…and did I mention CLEANING?

We moved six times the first three years we were married.  The move before the one when we bought our house, I swore up and down I would never do it again.  I even left boxes packed up and refused to unpack until we were in our house.  We’ve been in this house nine and half years.  We’ve added another human to the mix.  We have a lot of CRAAAAP.

I don’t want to live out of boxes and sort through things. 

I don’t like chaos.

I’m not happy about it at all…but then again, really excited for the next step.

Stay tuned.