sold

I have this problem of sometimes having severe sentimental attachments to inanimate objects. Even though we lived in Cape as a married couple for two years before buying our latest house, it still just feels like it was our first real home. 

And now, it officially belongs to someone else. 

I loved the house. I would've stayed in that house much longer had we not moved out of state.

I remember the very first time ever seeing it, Cory and the realtor made fun of me, because I took about two steps through the front door and said, "This is the one." And it was. 

Just last year I finally got the remodel I'd been wanting to do since we'd moved in. It turned out just as awesome as I'd expected.

That house was my baby's first home. Our first memories as a family are there.

I made a beautiful nursery, that at the risk of sounding conceited, is like magazine material. It was original and amazing.

There are so many happy times there, sad ones too I suppose. It just feels like a place that we made our own. Even now, when I think of home I think of that house.

It's probably silly, but one of the hardest parts of moving for me was leaving our house. I remember our last day in Missouri the truck was all packed up, my in-laws waiting to take us to St. Louis; and I stood there in my empty house, looking around like leaving this place forever wasn't really real. I held my baby close to me and my husband wrapped his arms around us both and whispered encouragingly, "Ready to go on our adventure?" 

I put my sunglasses on, shed a few silent tears, and nodded while walking out the door for the last time.

This adventure better be epic.