I shared an update on our house a few days ago, so naturally, that meant it was time to switch things around.
“Mama…” Ephraim says quietly as he bends towards me.
We’re eating lunch: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, goldfish crackers, cherry tomatoes picked from our hanging baskets, and sweet pickles.
Ephraim’s just brought three or four of the latter from their bowl to his plate when he leans in the direction of my chair and whispers solemnly, seriously. “Mama,” he begins again. “Would you call me…The King of Pickles?”
It’s the strangest thing I’ve been asked all day.
Last week I shared some pictures of the outside of the new house and property surrounding. Today I’m sharing the inside of the house. It’s kind of hard to do because it’s currently packed with two households’ worth of stuff, but that makes for better before pictures, right? Right?
I mentioned before that the house is about 1350 sq. ft. Right now one whole front room is taken up with boxes and things, so we’re living in what’s more like, oh, 1000 sq ft? 1100? Plus there’s one bedroom we don’t really use so it’s more like 900 sq ft., I guess. I am being completely frank when I say I am loving it. We won’t be able to unpack until my parents can move out, which will probably be mid-summer. I am looking forward to forgetting what’s in all those boxes so I can learn to live without most of it and then get rid of it when I am able to unpack. Right now I’m just enjoying having half the space to take care of, even if it is a little crowded!
The outside, in case you forgot:
In just a few months will be the thirtieth anniversary of when I moved into this house for the first time. I was the same age that Anselm is now–just a couple of months past the second birthday.
It’s kind of funny how things work out, isn’t it? Actually, it’s really not. We’ve prayed for years for the opportunity to move. We’re so thankful for our answer.
I took a few pictures today to have some “befores” on hand, as well as to be able to show this place we’ve been pining over for so long. I feel like I should add a disclaimer, though: it needs work. No worries, because work is what we’re planning on putting into it. A lot. Of work.
I wrote this about a week ago, in the midst of our packing:
I have just gotten Elvie to stop crying and go to sleep and am sitting for a couple of minutes in the silence. It is late for the boys–usually they are up by this time–but they must be especially tired to be sleeping late. And as if on cue, that thought is followed by the appearance of Ephraim, bleary-eyed and bed-headed, dragging his blanket over to where I sit. We exchange our good mornings, huge and kisses; he goes back out, and Clive comes in for the same morning treatment. After he wanders towards the bathroom, I get up to get Anselm out of his crib, where I can already hear him protesting his brothers’ absence.
When everyone is changed, dressed, hugged and with teeth brushed, we head downstairs for breakfast, a chatty row of ducklings still clutching their favorite blankets and talking about oatmeal. We eat–I’m last because I’m waiting for my coffee to finish–and one by one they ask to be excused and trot off upstairs. Once they are all squared away with toys and a show so I can focus on another day of packing, I hear Elvie begin crying from the other room.
Some days are just like this. Not every day–yesterday wasn’t–but some days I seem to bounce from child to child to child to child, kindergartener to preschooler to toddler to infant, in a sweet and essential cycle of hugs and kisses and meals and ouchies and nursings and what’s this? and where’s that? and sorries and forgivings and several other words I could also make up right this moment. There’s no exasperation in days like this (well, except for when Elvie is inconsolable for no apparent reason) but it certainly feels very busy.