Note: this post was written over the weekend. We're in the thick of moving and appreciate your th0ughts and prayers! I'll check in when I can.
Friday evening was the last night in our house for just Eric, Nathan and me, since my parents arrived Saturday night. I made one of our favorite meals for dinner, calzones, and it was cold enough outside that Eric built a fire so we could enjoy that once more. We reminisced about the house (Eric lived here for several years as a bachelor and had a smattering of roommates during that time) and prayed for the family who will move in soon. As someone who needs and appreciates closure, I really appreciated this special time.
I was really antsy Saturday. The owners of our new house had until 7 p.m. to be moved out, and they said they'd call when they were done. (An unusual set-up, I know, but it's a small town and we were OK with it.) I left plenty of projects for Saturday, so that I couldn't be too restless.
Shortly after returning from the grocery store that morning, there was a knock at our door. It was the owner, saying they were done moving out--and it was just 10:00! I was so excited. Eric and Nathan were out on a walk at the time, so I kept looking out the window as I worked in the kitchen. Naturally, I had just put bread in the oven, so we had to wait until that was done before we could head over. (Remember, we're just moving a block away!)
I was full of anticipation as we walked to our new home. But it was not quite the homecoming I imagined. For starters, the previous owners had left a fair amount of rotten wood and various debris in the garage, attic and basement. Then, seeing the house empty for the first time made me feel overwhelmed, rather than the excitement I had expected. Nathan fussed the whole time we were at the house, getting into things he shouldn't and then throwing fits when he was directed elsewhere. To top it off, Eric and I were not on the same page about where a certain project should fall on the priority list.
Sigh. Perhaps none of this sounds like a big deal, or maybe I'm coming across overly dramatic. But as I promised in the post title, I'm telling nothin' but the truth. It was not a fun visit. I left the (new) house in tears and bee-lined it back to my safe haven, the home which is familiar to me.
Eric assured me we'll take things one step at a time. When it comes to moving and home ownership, I admit I feel in over my head (makes me think of that song by The Fray--love it!) Can anyone else relate? How did you feel when you saw your house for the first time as an owner?