John and I have realized that our Florida road trip has given us an unexpected new perspective on houses. We’ve been loving the new place—nearly two months after moving I still find myself going up the stairs and whispering, “duuuuude, we have a second floor”—and with every wall we de-wallpaper and paint we feel more settled. Still, leaving our second house was bittersweet.
Traveling makes it clearer how well we still know that old house. Every nook and cranny is ingrained in our memory, while the new house still feels a bit mysterious. We don’t yet know the locations of all the light switches or which way doors swing. Our old house is comfortingly familiar, but the new one has that early-dating excitement. We’re smitten, even though there’s a lot of work ahead and we’re still getting to know the place.
From the beach I catch myself wondering what’s going on at our new house. Is it raining there? Are the deer hanging out in the sunroom? Then my thoughts drift to the new family living in our old house, which feels strange and sweet at once. I’m glad it’s not empty. (I know that sounds silly, but I’m fine with it.)
One of the last things we did before packing was make a video for Clara to remember the house—just like we did when we left our first home. This time Clara wasn’t a tiny lump in our arms; she could run around, talk, and get excited about the project. She loved the idea of a video she could re-watch and, after a bit of shyness, dove right in. She started directing us on which rooms to show, pointing out details, and delighting us with comments like “we’re in New Jersey” when asked what room we were in.
For those who can’t watch the video, here’s what’s in it: John and Clara playing “airplane” in the office, some silly sunroom antics, me being guided down the hallway (“we have to show this one!”), play-acting in Clara’s nursery (it was apparently nap time), frog dress-up, jumping on the guest bed, and Clara throwing me on our bed. We even stand together in the bathtub at one point. There’s a moment of Gangnam Style dancing, and the video includes the unforgettable line, “that’s not your cousin, it’s a llama.”
That little house was huge in our lives, especially for Clara. She was just seven months old when we moved in, and it became the backdrop for many of her firsts.
It’s where she learned to crawl, walk, and talk. It’s where she’s celebrated three birthdays and three Christmases, and where so many ordinary moments became treasured memories.
We’re grateful to have so many photos and videos from our house diary. My favorite little memory was a quirky nook in the living room where Clara loved to hide.
She’s since declared her new closet to be her “favoritest hiding spot in the big wide world,” which feels just right.
Love that bean. Love that house. Love you guys for indulging the sappy stuff. Now somebody pass me a tissue before I ugly-cry my sunscreen off.
We would have posted this sooner, but John’s computer had a meltdown while editing and nearly wiped out our photos and videos. So here’s your friendly reminder to back up your computer so you don’t find yourself screaming into a pillow for twenty hours. What saved this and many other memories was a combination of cloud backup and external hard drives—our go-to solution for irreplaceable photos and videos.