Moving (into a Flatulent-Friendly Home)

(See title. When will I ever stop saying awkwardly inappropriate things? I hope never. Along those same lines, I just peed a little when I sneezed, if you want to know how 36 weeks pregnant is going.)

I can’t tell you much about the past few weeks other than that they happened. So there’s that.

Moving Day’s Eve was pretty much the worst ever, but actual moving went swimmingly aside from a few hormonal outbursts (from Taylor, of course). We honestly couldn’t have managed without the help of my brother and my parents, who were in town for 5 years 2 weeks. We painted and decorated and unpacked our little hearts out.

And had Christmas at some point. I think. It’s all a little hazy, really.

When we were looking at houses, we had a list of “definites” and a list of pipe dreams. The house we ended up finding and buying hit every definite AND every pipe dream on our list. (Like, it even has a sweet play set in the backyard that Beckett still thinks is a bona fide city park.)

Without getting overly Jesus-jukey, let me just say that God has blessed us greatly with this home and my BIGGEST prayer in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD is that we will never ever ever ever just use this space for ourselves, but instead have an open door. So come one, come all. Dine with us, play with us, stay with us. This house is for you, too. (Unless you’re a serial killer. I’ll leave money on the front porch for you to eat elsewhere. I’m sure you understand.)

Our rent house was great for the 3 years we lived there but – let’s be honest – it was kinda terrible. As in maybe structurally unsafe. There were 1/4-1/2 inch wide cracks running up every wall in every room…among other things.

So a while ago I started making a list of what I was excited about in a new house. For instance:

  • Escaping farts. It sounds so simple, but in a 950 square foot rent house, it’s nearly impossible to escape a toot cloud no matter where or how stealthily it is deposited.
  • Taking care of toilet business in private. Our old bathrooms were connected by a door. Side-by-side half bath and master bath. If they so chose, two people could be using separate bathrooms and still carry on a conversation. That’s not normal.
  • Sharing a closet with Taylor. We had yet to do this as a married couple until now. (It’s awesome, but his clothes surprisingly still never seem to find the dirty clothes hamper. Weird.)
  • A multi-butt kitchen. Our old kitchen could contain exactly 1.5 normal-sized humans. Absolutely no more.
  • Dining for more than 4. Even if we had a table big enough, no space in the house held a table bigger than a 4-seater.
  • A fridge that doesn’t drown out conversation while running. It was that loud when it kicked in.
  • Ice. See above. It might’ve been the first fridge ever made.
  • A play area...that does not double as the living room. A place where the searing pain of stepping on a Lego barefooted doesn’t catch you completely off-guard.

We’ve been in our new house for almost 3 weeks now so I can say with confidence: these things have exceeded my expectations. The bathroom spacing is immaculate. And the playroom is just such a happy place. And the iced beverages! They’re so much colder than I remember…

My biggest prayer is that we never hoard our house to ourselves. The follow-up prayer is that we never forget how happy we can be in a space with ice-less drinks and a kitchen that holds no more than 1 cook. Or, put another way, we never take for granted what God gives us – no matter how big or small, structurally-sound or otherwise.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare dinner for our first of many dinner guests. 7 people at one table! Hooray!

May the Lord bless this home and the friends who enter it.

house

And maybe one day I’ll get better pictures. For now, old instas and couch shots will have to do.

One thought on “Moving (into a Flatulent-Friendly Home)

  1. Elizabeth

    I’m so happy for you! Looks beautiful! Hoping to move out of our 750 sq ft house soon. I can relate to everything on your list. Three years is enough time to live on top of each other (thank goodness it’s just Ben & me). Plus, we only have one bathroom. We desperately need another.

     
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