House, no, Home for Sale

Quick! Someone take a picture! (or two or three or four). For the first time in a month--or let's face it--a year, my house is clean. Not clean as in "the laundry is crammed in a basket under a cat's tail end," but clean as in "holy cow, we bought a house, sell, sell, sell!"

This house has a lot of memories.  We moved here right after we got married. We swore we'd live here for two years. We've been here nearly eight. We had some knock down fights. Thank God the walls can't talk. We welcomed two new kittens and said goodbye to our old Catty friend in this house.  We celebrated graduations and baptisms. I spent many a Saturday afternoon arranging and rearranging my shoe collection in the best walk-in closet I'll ever own.

I rocked my babies to sleep in the living room.

 and I sat delirious in the middle of the night on a laptop in the nursery praying that I could find a nanny to take care of them.

I learned to make a killer lasagna and a dozen cupcakes at the same time thanks to my double ovens, and RJ and I spent hours cooking together when we first brought GiGi home.

I cursed the weeds and the ants and learned how to find and hire every home improvement guy out there.

I taught RJ how to blow bubbles in the neighborhood pool and survived the hottest summer on record. Eight months pregnant.

But it's time to move. And so, the floors are shiny. The dust bunnies and cat furries are vacuumed. Thomas the Tank Engine is lonely because his friends are already packed, and Lightening McQueen needs a new highway because Radiator Springs is packed up too.


So, there's a home for sale. Ready for a new family and new memories.