Packing up

It’s out last week in our house.

Things have been pretty busy around here, hence the silence on the blog front. Hopefully that will change as we get settled in our temporary quarters and construction begins on our new house.

Among the purging, organizing, and packing that’s gone on lately, I thought it appropriate to take a moment and reflect back on the time spent in this house. When we moved in 9 years ago, Trevor had just graduated from Duke University with his MBA. Second from the left, he was all smiles. I was too, because we were leaving North Carolina — which was nice for a couple of years — and coming home to Texas. My favorite girl and my #1 son enjoyed graduation day, too. 

After a weekend house-hunting trip fraught with complications — including a case of pneumonia for my #1 son — we found a house. 

When we left Durham, my favorite girl was in the throes of the terrible two’s, and my #1 son had just turned 5. The days were long but the years were short. I’m pretty sure I was too tired to envision our life 9 years later, with a girl preparing for middle school and a boy — ahem, a teenager — getting ready to start high school, and yet here we are. 

Those busy, exhausting days continued in our new house. My favorite girl looked like this as she got settled in our new abode

and my #1 son headed off to kindergarten two months after we unpacked. Wearing his beloved Nomar jersey and light-up tennis shoes, that child looks like such a baby. His profile is the same nearly a decade later, as is his signature cowlick on the back of his head.

Those kiddos had some good times in our new house. Looking at those tiny hands and feet takes me back, yet I hardly recognize those little kids.

Dinnertime usually included a show; my favorite girl was the ringleader and my #1 son was along for the ride.

He drew the line at following her love of body paint, however. She was on her own for that.

This was a common scene as the little darlings splish-splashed in a shared tub (heavy on the bubbles, of course).

It was in this house that Mr P lost his two front teeth — on the same day

and learned to ride a bike (barefoot, of course, because that’s how he rolls).

He never did learn to love having his picture taken

but he did learn to be a good sport about it.

It was across the street from this house that he caught his first fish

and decided that the fishing was a lot more fun than the eating.

He enjoyed baseball more than fishing, and that first season of Little League seems like a million years ago. Baseball was so simple back then —  they didn’t even wear cleats that first year!

We did graduate to cleats and batting gloves the next season, however.

but back then, the idea of a $400 bat would have made me laugh out loud. 

That investment paid off, though, and Mr P collected his bounty for this first home run. $20 and a beer was the going rate back then (although he made the same face when he tasted the beer as he did when he tasted the fish). Little League is a distant memory, and home-run bounties no longer exist. Fancy bats and the big fields are our current reality.

It was in this house that these kids saw snow in Houston — something they may never see again!

Not long after that, we embarked on a much more appropriate project for Texas: building a pool.

We had a very diligent foreman on the job.

She babied the gunite and ensured all was well with the plaster. 

That tiny foreman made it through preschool and headed off to kindergarten from these front steps. Her backpack was nearly as big as she was.

Now she’s sporting braces on her teeth and blue streaks in her hair.

We’ve seen a lot of changes in the last 9 years. This house has served us well as we navigated the twists and turns of life with two young kids. I can’t wait to see what adventures await us in the new house. 

Right now it’s a vacant lot, but before long there will be a foundation and walls and rooms to hold the next decade of memories.