Moving and Moving and Moving…
When Husband was still working in new home sales, we moved SO many times I lost track of my own addresses. Mortgage loans, rent leases, and all sorts of financing options, like HARP refinance — yes, yes, I learned a lot of financial mumbo jumbo throughout these moves. Five major moves in two years with two kids under the age of three = totally crazy. One of my favorite stories to describe those times involves the time we visited my in laws and they had a doll house set up. The Boy walked over to it, very intrigued. I told him he could play with the house if he wanted. He grabbed a plastic bag, filled it with all the furniture in the doll house, and shouted, “Okay! Time to move!” Oh, how we laughed over that one. He’s almost ten now. (And in other news, I feel old. Sigh.)
I am now two months past my third full year of living somewhere, which means Husband and I are about to beat our old record of three years and four months. Indeed, we’ve been together since 1999 and the longest we’ve stayed in one place is three years and four months. No wonder I sometimes feel unstable.
No regrets, though. All those moves needed to happen and all of them were fun in one way or another. The place we’re at now I hope will be the place we stay, even if it is the least cosmetically please home (according to my parents). What can I say? I’m happy to have a place to call home. For more than a couple years.
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