Our Nomadic Summer

Before I get into how we’ll be spending our summer, I wanted to put out a Public Service Announcement from the H-G Household:

 

When I start a sentence with, “I wanted to tell you…” or “We have decided…” or “Did you hear about our…” it will not and never shall be about a pregnancy taking place in my body from this day forward.  This is to prevent anyone in the future from interrupting me and saying, ARE YOU PREGNANT? when I’m trying to tell them about new pants I bought or what I ate for breakfast or that I love balsamic vinegar.  Because I am not pregnant.  And I won’t be pregnant in the future.  Those mechanisms have been forever altered from their original state of reproduction, and we are perfectly okay with that decision.  I bring up this PSA only because when I have started to talk about our summer plans, the first instinct people have is to think I’m making a pregnancy announcement.  But I’m not.  We’re just selling and buying and moving and doing big things!

 

Okay, now on to us being nomads!  We made a big decision earlier this year: to sell our first house, buy a chunk of land, and build a new house.  It’s been quite the process of budgeting, creepily driving by plots of land, debating appliance models, and making the big leap into not having a permanent home for half a year.  It’s exciting!  It’s terrifying!  It’s bringing out our Inner Type A Demons!  We’ve got an awesome realtor, a stellar building team, and random places to stash our family until the new place is ready, so let the nomadness begin!

 

Currently, we are saying goodbye to our first house – the home where we brought home all three of our babies, mourned the loss of my third pregnancy, built up our first garden, taught our kids to ride bikes, and learned the awesomeness and awfulness that is home ownership (yay adulting!)  Here’s a little trip down memory lane…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We moved out in three phases.  Phase One involved a crew of amazing and highly intelligent friends and family that strategically filled a storage unit with 95% of our belongings.  They were couch stackers, tote disappear-ers, and general magic makers when it came to organizing and filling up our storage space.  Bravo, friends.  You were awesome.

Phase Two lasted a few weeks (somewhat longer than expected) and consisted of sleeping on mattresses plopped on the floor, getting ready for the day by pulling toiletries from overly crammed baskets, and eating Back Of The Pantry Random Food Specials most nights.  But we made it through!

 

The third and final phase was a late-night adventure ending in every last morsel of our existence being removed from the house, locking up one last time, and Brad and I collapsing into our first temporary residence a little after three in the morning.  Goodbye little white house tucked away amidst loving neighbors and beautifully flowering trees.  We will miss you greatly.

 

 

Even with the CRAZY AWFUL STRESS that came with selling a home, moving out, and juggling three kids every step of the way, we have much for which to be thankful.  To all those who supported us through listing the house, let us swarm your house while showings happened, listened to me melt into a puddle of stress and anxiety when things weren’t going well, took the kids while we recouped our did house stuff, lifted so much of our heavy stuff in and out of rooms/trailers/trunks, fed us when food was the best comfort, and now those sharing their homes while we wait on our new one, we say a big THANK YOU.  We seriously could not have made it this far without you.

 

 

One little taste of our (now former) neighborhood are these two women right here.  It was the night before we’d be moving everything out, and I was crying in my kitchen while trying to pack.  One of the most wonderful of friends coaxed me out of my sob-fest and met me halfway between our houses for a hug.  A tight, extra-squeeze hug that lasted long and every second was so needed.  (Nicky, I’m tearing up as I write this even).  Then as we’re chatting – bare feet in the cold grass mind you – a second friend from our chunk of the neighborhood drove by, popped into her house, and reappeared with a bottle of wine and glasses.  So we toasted to friendship, and the love of neighbors, and all the amazing things we as women, as mothers, as friends had shared for the past six years.  At the end of our impromptu chat and sips of wine, we took this selfie and it captured a beautiful moment.  Thank you Nicky and Kristin, and all the amazing people who loved on us the years we shared this amazing neighborhood with you.

 

 

For icing on the cake, here are our kiddos crammed onto our front porch.  Isn’t it beautiful?  Isn’t it so cool to see these littles that got to start their childhood together?  To our neighbors we are leaving behind (those pictured and the many many more that aren’t): you haven’t seen the last of the H-G’s!

 

 

So what’s next?  Well we are starting in a fresh plot of earth – a new place for new memories, new joys, potentially some new sorrows, and definitely some new adventures.

 

 

Stay tuned for our summer of nomaddening fun, as we scoot from place to place and watch our home grow.  We can’t wait to show you our new digs, but we also are looking forward to this summer of adventure and temporary spaces.

 

Working on embracing the madness,

~M