The Key in the Lock

10:13 PM

We are outgrowing our house.  I knew it would happen and I've known for some time that we wouldn't be able to stay here long term. 

Our guest bathroom is too small.  Every single night we have to tell Cameryn to be quiet while she is brushing her teeth because the sound will radiate through the walls and wake Jordin who is sleeping in the adjacent room.  When we turn on the bathtub faucet, we also have to turn up the volume on the tv because the sound of the water running through the pipes is too loud to hear over the way to large tv in the living room.  Our kitchen is a nice size but extremely lacking in counter space, which is a problem when trying to assemble lasagna or something else that requires multiple steps and bowls.  We don't have enough cabinet space for all of our dishes and appliances. 

All of our bedrooms are a really nice size, but there's little storage.  The closets are long, but not deep.  Our attic is a 5' x 5' space that holds our fake Christmas tree, some baby gear, and not much else.  We can't park in the garage because both cars won't fit, even if we took everything out.

We like to have people over, but shhhhhh! don't be loud, the baby is sleeping!  Chris has a large family and when they're all visiting, there's just not enough room for all of us.

I work from home and my desk is in the bedroom, which means that I spend almost every hour of my day in one room.  Working or sleeping.  And sometimes when I can't sleep at night, I'm tempted to get up and start working, because the computer is right there.  That can't be healthy.

Chris and I have a lot of stuff, which is part of the problem and we're slowly ridding our house of the excess, but, our kids also have a lot of stuff.  Cameryn's birthday is approaching and the Christmas holiday is around the corner, and I have increasing anxiety about where we're going to put the excess. 

We're simply running out of room.  We drove around town on Friday night after I looked online and saw a floor plan of a new construction home that I liked.  We looked at neighborhoods nearby just to see what was out there.  Are we ready to put our home on the market?  Not quite.  And yet I can't help but pull up the Trulia app on the iPad a few times a week because the lure of a new home and more space is appealing. 

But this home?  It's ours.  We built it from scratch.  We picked the inside and outside, making every single decision regarding its guts.  I remember the day that we moved in, the rooms bare, the little furniture that we had barely filling them.  There were no holes in the wall, only blank space, waiting for a new memory to be hung. 

The house seemed so large then, so perfect, and it was, back then.  The key that turned the lock was mine. 

Sometimes I can't imagine leaving here, packing and unpacking, moving all of our stuff to a new house.  Starting over with paint and flooring and countertops and doorknobs and drawer pulls...

These walls built me, they built my family.  They hold the dreams and fears that I've whispered into the air.  They've seen and heard the angry words that Chris and I have had.  They've protected us from the storm outside as we weathered the one in.  This house is where I've had parties for friends to celebrate weddings and babies.  I've cried in the bathroom, gripping the counter grieving for family members that we've lost and jumped for joy at a positive pregnancy test.  This house is where we brought our children home and created paths in the carpet walking back and forth to their rooms in the dead of night.  We've planted flowers and trees in the backyard, creating shade where it's needed, because we know that our bedroom gets really hot at the end of a summer day.  The guest bathroom, though small, echoes the sound of laughter coming from my girls while they're playing in the tub.     

The house isn't perfect.  We don't have the nicest fixtures and top of the line countertops.  The walls groan at the slightest breeze.  But the key that turns the lock is mine.  The pictures on the wall tell our story.  The house- the paint, the flooring, some of the fixtures - they've changed since we moved in.... but so have we.  Maybe it's time to move on, create new memories, and transfer moments frozen in time from these walls to new ones.  Maybe it's time to close one door and open another and one day when our kids are older we can drive by and show them their first home...  Where the hamster is buried in the back yard....  The tree that Cameryn planted after a field trip to the Christmas tree farm.  We can tell them the story of the rocks in the backyard.  This house will always be my home.  Where my family was built, where some of the best moments of my life took place. 

If we sell our home and a new lock is put on the door, my key won't work.  I'll always know that we built this house, and it built me.  I'll display my key to this house on the walls of a new one, to remind me where I came from, what I've lost and accomplished. The key that turns this lock will be the first thing to be hung on a wall of new memories to be made.

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