(this is us right after we bought our house. the fence is now gone, as is the basketball hoop)
I wanted to say, "Wait... Mom... your house? But that used to be my house too!" That was the house I "grew up" in. I lived a whopping 10 years in that house. I had slumber parties, and got ready for football games, proms, and dates in that "guest" bathroom that used to be entirely pink (now its blue). That is where I slept and dreamt and worried. That is where I came home after every date with Devin and where I came after we got engaged. It is where I found out I was going away to school at BYU-I and where I learned how to make sweetpotato pies. It is where I cried after I had breakups and where I dreamt about my new life with Devin. How is this not my house anymore? I remember moving all of my stuff out of my "room" when Devin and I got married... and it was sad... kinda... but not as sad as going back and staying in the guest bedroom.
(right when we were moving in)
Odly enough as many memories that that house holds for me it doesn't feel like home anymore.
(christmas time at our house... see lucy up there?)
I missed my house. My own bed. My own snuggly blankies. I missed the home that Devin and I created together. The place where both him and I share our space and our love. And thats the way it should be.
(our mantle as we were moving in...)
Sorry old house, as sad as it is... you aren't my home anymore. My home is where my husband is...
(our mantle last year at Christmas)
Although it is nice to have mom make "sleeping potion" (AKA hot chocolate) before bed and for her to let you eat frosted miniwheats for breakfast the next morning ;-)