Back in December, Eric got an email from a realtor listing houses. Eric usually gets these emails and sends them to the delete file, without even opening. However, with this foreclosed listing, he actually opened it. It sounded interesting, so just for the heck of it, we went and looked at the house.
When I drove through the neighborhood for the first time, I thought, "Wow, this looks like a mini-Muirfield (the awesome neighborhood where Eric's grandparents live)." The house was a little bigger than our current house, but it had been gutted, which would leave us with a lot of work to do. The lot is over an acre, and had a lake for a swimming pool, complete with ducks. We looked through the house and noted all that we would have to repair (appliances, lights, plumbing fixtures, carpet, toilets, paint, electrical, baseboards). We also noticed that there had been some water damage in the basement. We later realized that the grading on the property was such that any water drained into the basement. This led to more repairs (ripping up the driveway, moving palm trees, re-grading the property, adding drains, repairing wallboard).
We thought, prayed, went to the temple, and fasted to help us with the decision. We had just remodeled/rebuilt our current house less than 3 years ago. It had absolutely everything we wanted, all to our design. How could we leave it to renters (there was no way we could sell it with the current market situation)? We liked the convenience of our neighborhood. We had good friends within our ward. We were within walking distance of my parents' house. There was so much to consider. The school system was stinking big time. Spencer and Logan were getting bullied in school. There were not very many kids in the ward for Lindsey and Spencer. There was so much to consider. With all this, plus all the work which would have to be done, we still decided to place an offer on the house. Our offer was accepted within 24 hours.
We had many hoops to jump through for the bank and the loan. It eventually all got pulled together and we signed on the house in March. The repairs started. We worked on repairing the house for a month before we moved in. To meet the bank's approval, we had to have all 7 of the bathrooms working, in addition to the kitchen working with appliances. Eric was eager to move so we could get the other house rented, so we decided to move the beginning of April, in the middle of all the fix-ups. We brought things and stored them in the garage, all through the month of March. This meant that everything was coated in a fine layer of sawdust/paint. It was a lovely mess.
Moving day came, and it was crazy. I had tried to pack up all that I could during the prior months, but there was still a lot to do. My dad had made many trips to the house with his little truck loaded up. We managed to get about 70% of everything on Saturday. It was still a pretty hard day, but I didn't think much about it. I just thought about having beds made and church clothes located. Then on Monday, when I went back to the house to get all the rest of the stuff, it hit me, and I collapsed in a friend's arms. I really felt like there were so few people who helped us. As it had gotten closer to moving day, my mom took care of the kids, which was really helpful. A handful of people from the ward had come over and helped for a couple of hours, but I was very disappointed that the people who I've known for 14 years didn't show more support. I will say, though, that I learned from it. I learned that I should never assume somebody else is going to do it. I'm sure that a lot of people in the ward would have helped, but maybe they didn't because they thought other people would be helping. So, now I need to never assume that someone is going to help another person in need. When I hear of someone needing help, whether it be a meal or moving or childcare, I'm not going to assume that someone else will do it and I will step up and help out.
For the first couple of weeks of living at the new house, I felt like I was on vacation and that I'd be going back home. Every day I drove by our old house. However, I hated going into our old house, seeing all that I was leaving and thinking of the new house in the repair-state that it was in. I couldn't call our new house home or say that, "I'm going home." There were still workers at the house, and little did I know, they would still be there all the way into July. I had the basic things found, but there were some things I needed that were still piled in the garage in the myriad of stacked boxes. The school schedule was insane! I felt like I was in the car for half the day, and only had an hour each day to work on unpacking and organizing. Thankfully, I was able to take Kaylen to my parents' house in the morning and they put her on the afternoon bus for school. Otherwise I would have had to make another trip into M for school.
Our ward was very welcoming. It was also really exciting to see a friend from high school in the ward. There are so many couples in the ward close to our ages, with 4-6 kids. We're really excited to get to know everyone and become part of the ward family. We do, however, dearly miss certain people in our old ward. I really miss working with the ladies in Primary.
I hated leaving our old house. We interviewed lots of renters. Some seemed nice, others I thought, no way. The people who I really wanted to have it, didn't put an offer in. Another young girl did, and we accepted it, but my gut kept on aching. I'm not sure if we had made a bad choice, or if I was just reluctant to leave. So, we canceled on her. Another family came along, and I realized that nobody is going to be perfect for me, and that I needed to choose someone, so I chose them. I wanted to check-in with them often and see if things were going ok (read: see if they were trashing the house), but I didn't. I'm eager for the quarterly inspection, to see how things look on the inside of the house. I just wish I could do the inspection, but I can't. Hopefully things are good, since that house was my baby.
We've only moved 13 minutes away from our childhood, but we feel like we've moved across the country. If I would have known it would have felt like this, I would have tried harder to convince Eric to move to Utah. Actually, I'm not sure if I would have gone that far, but I would have felt the same. It's all kinda crazy. I'm writing this in July, and it's just starting to feel like I'm home. I guess it all takes time, just ask my unpacked office. : )
I can't even begin to describe how much I love Women's Conference. I love it! Shortly after registration opened up for Women's Conference, I was registered. I was eager to go, not only for the spiritual experiences, but also just for a break. The timing of it was pretty chaotic, just after we moved, but I still wanted to go. My mom had said in years past that she wished she would have gone, so she (finally) decided that she wanted to go too. For some reason, my dad also decided to go. I'm not sure if he just wanted an excuse to travel, or if he was hesitant to send my mom and me on our own, even though traveling alone is not new for me. This year we stayed at Wyview, an apartment complex on the BYU campus. I think Provo is probably my favorite city in Utah because it's so pretty. The pictures I took are just pretty pictures of BYU. It was the coldest it has ever been. It snowed every day!
Friday night after the conference ended, we headed downtown where we met up with my only two uncles - Uncle Cliff and Mike, along with Aunt Jackie. It was good to see them again. Uncle Mike is hilarious with the faces he makes (too bad I couldn't catch any with the camera). 
