Breaking up with the Castle

Update: I wrote this Friday as I was packing and cleaning. Today we arrived in St Louis, and we spend the day here tomorrow. Then Wednesday it is on to Denver!



It's been a crazy three weeks. Cray-zy. With a capital, bolded C. Sorting, packing, selling, giving away, grabbing coffee with a friend, and another, and another. More selling. An epic moving sale. Lunch with our pastor. Dropping my kids off somewhere almost every day for at least a few hours of baby/toddler-free productivity. I miss my kids. My house is in controlled chaos, and so empty it's starting to echo. We're one day out from our next adventure.



When we told people we were moving, one of the first questions everyone asked was "what about the Castle?" People know how much we've loved and used this house, and made it ours. I would have sold the castle if we needed to, but thankfully we didn't need to. Sweet friends of ours will be renting from us - a match so perfect it couldn't have come from anywhere but God. They have a little boy and a little girl and were looking for more space and a place to be outside. They're excited to live in a big house, and we're excited that the castle will be filled with another sweet family.



Breaking up is hard to do though. I've barely (surprisingly) struggled with letting go of all the stuff that filled our attic, closets, dressers and basement. I've enjoyed making money from the sale, finding new homes for things, and thinking about our fresh start. But when we got to the point where we are undoing the things I've done to make this castle home,  well that's been hard. The paintings and pictures are coming off the walls. The projects are getting stored away or given away. The gallery wall is coming down. We're even leaving a lot for our renters, but it's still hard. It's hard to undo all that work, and love, you know?



Today I'm touching up paint, filling holes and scrubbing bathrooms. I'm polishing the mantel and the woodwork for the last time. I'm wiping tiny hand prints off windows and doors. And it's therapeutic in a way. I'm saying goodbye to my house, the place we've rescued from the ugly, brought our babies home to, filled with laughter and love and people. We always said if we owned a home we would use it for God, by hosting people, loving people and welcoming them in. I think we have done our very best to accomplish that goal. I'm excited for the next adventure, but I'm taking today to say farewell to my house.

Denver or Bust!

You know how sometimes you have a dream, one that you talk about only on date night, or late at night in bed, or maybe you just quietly journal it and keep it in a safe place? Well that's how my dream of moving has been, for years. And that all changed last Thursday.



Friends, we are moving to Denver, Colorado. In fifteen days. I have just over two weeks left to pack up our house, find renters, host the Most Epic Garage Sale ever, pack our van with as much as it will hold, say goodbye to family and friends, and head out on our new adventure.

I am so excited. Beyond thrilled. Growing up in Spain infused me with traveler's blood, with a bit of wanderlust, if you will. I've settled here in Rochester and learned to be content, but it's just not in our blood (Lover lived in Spain as a kid too, remember?) to stay in one place forever. We're ready to explore some new places.

There is lots to tell about how we arrived at this (seemingly out of the blue) decision. There's not time to type it all out now, but I will say this - we took a year after Keilana was born to rest as a family. We stepped back from all of our commitments and responsibilities, and spent the year discussing what the future held for us, and how we wanted to proceed over the next few years. We spent a lot of time in prayer, had countless conversations, and waited (im)patiently for God to give us direction. Last week was Keilana's first birthday and in true God fashion, the new job offer came in on Thursday, her actual birthday, ten minutes before midnight. God is nothing if not punctual! :)

So that's what's keeping us busy for the next few weeks. Overall I'd say we are very excited and looking forward to the move, with the occasional panic attack thrown in for good measure. :) Even with all of the stuff I've gotten rid of in the last three years, we still have all.the. things. So figuring out what's staying, going and being sold is keeping me busy. I'll be popping in here and there for updates as we pack up our life and head west! Pray for me!

You Never See the Hard Days {NYC Trip}

I wrote this post a few weeks ago, but things got busy and I never got around to publishing it. Enjoy!

We spent last week in New York City. The City is a magical place chock full of scrumptious eateries, gorgeous architecture, shopping for miles, and the wonder that is Central Park. It is also, we discovered, a very difficult place to travel to with two little ones.



We arrived Sunday evening to our hotel with our luggage, the baby in the carrier, and a sick toddler in the stroller. The hotel was tiny, even by Manhattan's standards, and I was already tired after 6 hours in the car, a half an hour on the Metro and a few blocks walk to the hotel. We asked the friendly guy at the front desk (Miguel) for a crib, and, after a blank look, he said "Oh, I am sorry! We do not have cribs. But, we have a 3/4 size cot, would that work for you?" Well, no, since my ten month old has no concept of tall furniture,and loves to nose dive off of everything, no it will not work for us. We requested a room with two doubles, and figured that Keilana could sleep on blankets on the floor.



So we headed upstairs to our room with two double beds. Except that it was a room with one king bed. After looking at each other and sighing, Lover headed back downstairs to get us the right room. Seconds after he left, Miguel calls the room. "Hello?" I say, trying not to sound irritated. "Ah yes, ma'am, so I know that you said you wanted a king size bed (we didn't) but if you would like, I could put you in a room with two doubles if that would work better for you. (Yes, that's why we requested that)". So I say, yes, my husband is on his way down to get things worked out. And (this is my favorite part) Miguel says, "well, actually, ma'am, if you want to just come on down too, that would be best." And so, still nicely, but less nicely, I say "well, actually I can't do that because I have both my kids with me (one is a baby, remember? the one that needed a crib?) and all of our luggage so I cannot just "come on down". In fact, there are very few situations in life right now where I can "just" do anything. My husband will be down in a minute." And then I took a deep breath.



We got our room with two doubles. There was about a foot of space on each side on the beds, and a generous three feet at the end of the beds where the desk, TV and armoire were crowded in. We dumped our luggage and headed out for dinner. When we came back, I looked around the lobby/breakfast room and realized I didn't see any highchairs for the kids. I asked Miguel if they had any. His response? "Well, ma'am, ah...high chairs? Well our highest chairs are the bar height stools there along the wall..." I think my face must have been scary, because at this point he trailed off. "For children," I clarified, trying not to growl. "highchairs. Not stools." "Oh, no, so sorry ma'am. We just have chairs."



On the elevator ride up to our room, Lover and I just laughed. What else can you do? We tried to make the best of the situation. We put sick little Javi to bed in one of the double beds, made a bed out of blankets on the floor for Keilana, and jockeyed for enough space for two grown people in our double bed exactly one foot away from Javi's bed. Have I mentioned that I am claustrophobic?



What followed was one of the worst nights sleep I've had in years. Keilana hated the floor, and woke up just about every hour that night. Javi had coughing spasms throughout the night, exacerbated by the ancient ventilation blowing years of dust into the room. At one point in the night I sat in bed, wedged next to Lover, nursing Keilana for the hundredth time, listening to my toddler cough uncontrollably, and prayed desperately for God to help me make it through till morning.



We did. And we made it through each long, hot day and five tiring sleepless nights. Because my toddler with normally boundless energy was sick,  he constantly asked to ride in the stroller. This meant if I went out during the day, I had Keilana in the carrier. Hot, sweaty and heavy. The first two nights when we went out all together, to get dinner and walk around the city, it started to rain. Monday night, luckily, we were only three blocks from the hotel. Tuesday night, however, we were up on 60th st, right next to Central Park, and it was pouring. There wasn't anyway around the rain, so we bought an umbrella for Lover who was carrying KK and proceeded to walk the fifteen blocks back in pouring rain. Fun times.



Tuesday night, as we walked, and walked, and walked in the rain, and I got progressively more soaked, I started making a list of things I was thankful for. It was not cold. Javi and Keilana were having the time of their lives in the rain. I was wearing sandals, not flip flops, so walking was easier. I would never, after this trip, have to stay in this hotel, ever again. And on and on. It made the rain a little easier to deal with.



It was one of the hardest trips we've ever taken. Keilana and Lover both got sick after a few days there, and I'm pretty sure I did too, but I was too busy taking care of everyone else to really stop and examine myself. :) But at some point in that first day or two, I remembered one of my favorite quotes:

You never see the hard days in a photo album, but those are what get you from one happy picture to the next. 

And so I took pictures. Lots of them. Of anything that caught my eye. Of my kids being adorable. Of stunning buildings. Of New York's quirkiness. I'll be able to look back on these pictures and although I'll know that it was a hard week, I'll just have the happy pictures to remember it by. I shared a lot of those pictures on Instagram and Facebook, and apparently my strategy worked because a friend commented "so jealous of you in NYC! Looks like a good time!" and I just chuckled.