Cue Nostalgia.
It didn't really hit me until tonight that we are actually moving. Sure - we've been packing and making arrangements but for some reason, it didn't seem real. What did the trick? This conversation between Vincent and I while I was putting him to bed:
Daddy: Are you excited about having a new house to move into?
Vincent: I like our house.
D: But our new house will be as great as this one. Only....greater.
V: ....
D: Besides, other nice people will be living in this house and will take good care of it.
V: What other people?
D: (tells Vincent their names)
V: When?
Long pause.
D: Next week.
That made it real. Other people will be living in our house as of next week. So yeah, I sound like a softie but I warned you about my penchant for nostalgia
here. I wasn't kidding. It's time for me to crack one open, put on some Kinks and document
the moments that have made the last five years in this house memorable for us. If you've visited this site more than once, you know I can't get away from lists. So here goes.
Scraping paint off of 80 year old hardwood floors for weeks (Thanks previous owners!). Ridding the basement of animal stench (See previous parenthetical quip!). Enjoying our neighbor's amazing father teach us the ins and outs of top soil. Dave and I digging for roughly 6 hours and ravaging our hands to pull out those awful bushes that blocked the front of the house. Cigars & bourbon on the front porch with the Virginios. Beating Kevin's ass at basketball in the driveway until we got mad at each other. D'aaaah Kevin. Being within walking distance of the best independent book & music store in the galaxy. Waking up one Sunday morning to Rose telling me she had a positive pregnancy test to which I replied, "I guess we'll have to go to the doctor to be really sure." Bringing Vincent home. Staying up, laying next to his crib the entire second night he was home, listening to him breathe because he still had a little bit of liquid in his system from delivery. Doing the "letting him cry" thing for the first time, both Rose and I white knuckling the couch waiting for it to stop. Vincent shooting poop at Kate and I (Nice to meet you, Auntie Kate.). Watching good and bad TV when we should've been catching up on sleep because we just had to know how many crab pots the Northwestern hauled in this season. Vincent's first steps. And laughs. Watching the Amish guys we hired to replace our roof affix their ladders to the house with leather belts - the kind you and I wear to work. Stuffing 50+ people into 1450 sq. feet for Vincent's first birthday because it was violently raining. Not having a light switch cover on one of our kitchen outlets (out of the boys' reach) for a solid 2 years because I'm not too great at tile backsplashes. Watching our neighbors two doors away build all manner of unusual ancient gardens in their backyard and letting them sit unused. Really learning how to use a lawn edger and getting pissed that the guy's across the street looks like a golf course. Turning music up super loud and dancing (obliterated on caffeine) with Vincent on weekend mornings. Falling asleep holding Vincent for the 700th time, breaking all the rules of "getting your child to sleep on his own." Playing puzzles. Setting up Disney guys in every conceivable configuration. Bringing Peter home. Having the boys get to know each other. Noticing their differences. Watching Vincent hug Peter with abandon. Peter loving it. Peter's first steps. And laughs. His first poop onto the bathmat (Happened tonight!!). Countless beers, cups of coffee, chachi milk (spiked with half & half). Tears - real and crocodile. Episodes of Little Bear with the lights out. Not so silent steps taken on the creaky hardwood floors, trying not to wake them up even though both of their white noise machines are cranking. Coming home after a good or a bad day and just being.
Why am I mining my memory to commemorate an 80 year old house where we only spent five years?
As it turns out, they were some pretty big years.