Moving On

This week has been crazy for us since we’re moving for the first time in over two and a half years. We’re renters and although to some people that has a negative connotation, it’s worked wonderfully for us mostly due to the fact that we’re not ready to commit to any certain area, or state just quite yet. It also means that we’ve gotten to see what we like, what we don’t like, and get a pretty good idea of what we want when we eventually go house hunting. Renting also means that we’ve had our share of moving. While we should be experts by now, I feel that I somewhat get lazier every time. I look at things and think “I can just carry that”. While this might sound okay, it's really not. Unfortunately a car full of things to “just carry” doesn’t work so well when it consists of half of the house! I also always seem to worry I'll start packing too early and be bored later. Of course when it comes down to crunch time I’m rushing and throwing stuff in boxes! So apparently we aren't experts quite yet. We did steal my super organized grandmother’s idea of using colored duct tape to indicate which room each box goes to. I’m pretty sure that’s the only improvement we’ve really made to the moving experience which is sad when you consider how many times we’ve been down this road!

When I think back about my/our living situations over the past few years, it’s interesting how each home was so different. As I’ve moved on, each place has felt a little more like home than the last. Each has their own memories and represents a different time in my life and a different type of lifestyle.

The dorms were about having fun and enjoying college. My room was bright and a little crazy – just like me - and I loved it! This is where I realized I was really on my own the afternoon that my parents left to drive back to NE. Eventually, I loved being on my own, not having to follow a curfew, and having freedom to do what I wanted when I wanted to an extent. I could walk to class five minutes before it began and planning ahead wasn't at the top of my list as it is now. I remember hanging out with my roommate, watching Maury, and spending way too much money shopping the first semester. Being unemployed and spending money really doesn’t go together too well! Luckily we got ourselves some jobs the second semester and then our Maury watching stopped due to a lack of afternoon time to waste. This is also where I found some great friends and met Mr. C when he was the boy next door. This is where the story of Mr. C and I began and for that reason it holds many memories. It never really felt like home but it was a good place to start my life away from the only home I had ever known.

The apartment was a more “grown-up” step and my roommates and I had to go to the work of actually paying multiple bills and splitting them. I was in upper division classes at this point and I remember many late hours spent working on design projects at the kitchen table. Mr. C would try to stay up but from time to time I’d find him asleep on the couch at 3am while I trudged on. We watched reality shows with my roommate while we shared the daily dramas of our lives. We had some great times with friends in the apartment and some super fun game nights. I knew when we moved out that things would never be the same. This wasn't good or bad, just different, but hard in a way. We were growing up and it signaled to me the end of something and the beginning of our lives in the "real world" as responsible adults with husbands and houses and kids and jobs.


Then Mr. C and I moved to a house right before we got married. We were thrilled to find it and it was a mansion to us at the time. The house is where we got into the groove of combining finances, figuring out who was responsible for what, and just being a married couple. I remember spending thanksgiving with Mr. C’s family here as well as our first Christmas in AZ. We had a fire pit which we used frequently for pie irons (for those of you who don’t know these are amazing! ) which we made while spending time with Mr. C’s family. This is also the house we brought Coconut home to, the same house that Mr. C slept in the closet because Coconut was lonely and wouldn’t stop whining but we refused to let her on the bed because we just weren’t going to be those kind of people (she sleeps with us now). To me, that house was our beginning, the place we really fell into our routine and became a little family.
I’ve called this last house home longer than anywhere else I’ve lived in AZ and we’ve been so happy there that it’s hard to leave. This house always felt like home and I’m not sure if it was the layout, the warm wall colors, or just because. Our furniture fit perfectly, we had the space we wanted, and I just enjoyed the house. I guess we’ve grown up a lot and grown into our own lives more in this house. We’ve had lazy afternoons, lots of late night walks with Coconut, spent many hours studying, and have had more houseguests than ever in this home. I’m sad to think of what we’re leaving behind because I really do love this place. Although it’s not somewhere I’d want to stay forever, it’s still hard to say good-bye to somewhere I have so many and such great memories.
The new place is great though and even Coconut approves although I think sometimes she’s just excited to go anywhere new. Even with the minimal amount of time spent moving in so far, I love it so far and I know we’ll be happy here. This house to me is the place I get to do all the things I keep writing about like scrapbooking and reading and cooking and the millions of other things school didn’t leave much time for! Again, it’s a different type of lifestyle….a little more relaxing hopefully! I guess we just seem to be going through life changes when we move! We’ve made some memories already though and I can only imagine the millions more we have to make. I’m assuming one of my not so fond ones will be remembering the weekend we moved in 100 degree heat! Luckily Mr. C’s family is amazing and always comes through; especially when we have a U-Haul we need filling and then emptying!