moving on

We just spent our third Sunday in our new home.  I can't believe that much time has passed already.  Mr. F and I joke that it still feels a bit like we're in a vacation rental and that we'll have to go back to real life soon.  

The first week was a blur of projects, fun, and family.  The weekend of the move, Mr. F's parents drove in from Florida to assist in everything.  His mom ended up staying the better part of a week, helping me when Mr. F went back to work.  We painted rooms, loaded bookshelves, made Ikea runs, and generally staged the new space.  She left and my parents came in time for our anniversary and Easter.  Yet again, loving parents were hard at work hanging shelves, artwork, and painting the nursery.  I look at what is now our home and smile.  Already it is full of memories of family and love.

There has been a noticeable change in our attitudes since the move, an extreme sense of peace and contentment.  These new walls have enveloped us in a safe haven, creating an environment where we can dream and plan for the days and months to come.  Prior to the move, our time together was edgy, laced with worry and fatigue.  Now?  It is joyous.  We both get excited to come home and bask in the light-filled rooms.

Some of our favorite features of the townhouse include the deck (which is being replaced, but look forward to urban garden ideas!), the space, the neighbors, the light.  We have, for the first time ever, luxuries like a garbage disposal, microwave, and ice machine, not to mention the addition of a washer and dryer.  As a lover of laundry, it has been a serious challenge for me the past few years to go without an in-unit washing machine.  I now wash everything in sight, whenever, just because I can.

Out of our bedroom window are the most delicious trees. Not just one or two.  A veritable forest, the likes of which only Atlanta could provide in such an urban environment.  There is quiet here.  Calm.  Light.  Peace.  Space.  Home...

In the evenings, we now curl up in bed and feel our little girl doing the macarena inside of me.  We talk to her and of her.  In the morning, she is still, but I am greeted by the light of dawn pouring in through her little nursery window.  It effuses the hallway with light and joy.

Things are still in flux, and probably always will be, but we very much so are feeling like we're at a point where we can be still and just enjoy our home.  I'm slowly getting back to work, catching up on etsy orders and beginning to paint again.  So even though we feel like we're still on vacation, real life is seeping in and it never looked so good.