It’s the final night in our home. No surprises to anyone who knows me: I’m feeling sentimental.
We have rented this green shoebox for the past two and a bit years. It’s the only house we’ve lived in in Brisbane. We arrived only knowing one other family in this city, with a two year old and a six month old in tow.
We had no idea what the following two years would bring. This house has been witness to some incredible highs and of course a few lows. I’m finding myself sitting here reflecting on some of the big moments…
- Bringing our third child home to this house.
- Sending my big boy off to kindy from here (the kindy is literally across the road).
- Starting my little biz from here – celebrating the success and learning, very ungracefully, how to juggle a business and motherhood.
- Calling an ambulance to this house when my daughter had a bad accident and blood literally covered the walls.
- Hosting our lovely family and friends from Melbourne on their holidays.
- Hosting birthday parties in the amazing park across the road, watching my son learn monkey bars in that park and my daughter roll around in the tan bark like only she would. Then bringing them back home and into the bath straight away because they were always filthy, but happy.
- Celebrating my husband getting his painting business off the ground and a few paintings into a gallery in Brisbane.
I’ve watched my children grow, get toilet trained, fight, scoot, eat, sleep, love, laugh, make friends, cook, climb, learn and did I mention GROW!? This house is part of their life story now. It is far less than perfect. One room leaks when it rains heavily, the baby has never had a proper room, I have run my business from the kitchen table and the couch.
I can hear everything that happens in any room all the time.
But it has been full of laughter and joy. It has seen the evolution of all five of us. I’ve grown a lot in this house. I’ve become a competent and content mother of three. I think when I arrived I was an overwhelmed and sometimes resentful mother of two. I have eased into motherhood more, I gave into it. Instead of feeling put out that my days weren’t mine or my daughter didn’t sleep as long as my son, I just gave in to the chaos and the imperfection and embraced wholeheartedly the mother I AM instead of the mother I thought I should be.
Yes, I have certainly grown.
My cupboard looks very different now to the way it did when we moved in. I’ve replaced packets with glass jars filled with real food. I’ve baked and mixed and whizzed and whisked and experimented and failed and made A LOT of mess in the kitchen. I will never forget cooking with my kids in this kitchen, those memories are amongst my fondest.
Thank you house, for being our home. Thanks for holding us here and watching on as we muddle our way through life. We will always be grateful for our time here. But we outgrew you and are moving to a house with a bit more room and a garden to play in and an oven that (HOPEFULLY) works!
PS. If you are hiding my wedding rings you can give them back to me RIGHT NOW!