This time last year, I was surrounded by boxes, trash bags, and laundry baskets piled high with crap as we moved from California to Ohio. And here I sit again, amid piles of stuff, wondering why the hell we moved AGAIN even it it was just 4 blocks from where we landed last year.
Then I look at the back yard that has Luna and Isaac running around and splashing through his pool.
We finally moved HOME. It feels like we are home.
I really liked the house we moved into last year. It was adorable. But we rented it unseen, and it just wasn't home.
It got me thinking about all the different places we have lived in the past 10ish years. Only one other place really felt like home. Funnily enough, Ben and I were talking about this the other night, and we both felt the same. The only other place that felt like home was our apartment in Sonoma.
I don't know what it is about this house and that apartment that made them have a different feeling. Isaac was never in Sonoma with us, and the house we all lived in together in California was lovely (kind of Dr Seuss-y, but still lovely). The only thing these two place really have in common is carpet. They were both fully carpeted. Well, and they had laundry rooms in the actual living space so I didn't have to venture outside or down into a creepy basement to have clean clothes.
What is it about the carpet that makes us feel home? Neither of us grew up in carpeted homes. I can't tell you why this house gives me this feeling, but it does. WE ARE HOME. And we couldn't be happier.