Three years ago we pulled a U-Haul up to the carport of this house and made trip after sweaty trip lugging boxes inside to set up our life in a new place.  Noah was  eighteen months old.

We put him straight to work.

L and I have lived in this house longer than we have lived any where else during our eight years of marriage, and when I remember Noah as a child it will have a prominent place in those memories. 

And despite its (oft mentioned) limitations, we worked hard to make this space ours.

Of all the additions we made to the house, one in particular seemed to make the biggest difference in our family life.

But today we leave.  We pack up a different U-Haul with our now expanded life and relocate to a new address. We get to leave behind the messes we made here and the tiny kitchen where the dishes are washed by hand.  We get to leave behind the shower stalled bathroom and Noah finally gets to bathe without his knees up to his nostrils.  We get the chance to expand and get a little breathing room.

So goodbye you dishwasherless, bathtubless house, you bastard.  It’s been real.

Now excuse me while I go take care of this water in my eyes.