An Unintentional New Beginning

Tonight, I rocked my 3-year-old to sleep. Her eyes fluttering. Her legs to long to curl near my waist, dangled over the chair's arm. The cold chill of winter seeping through the window above my shoulder.

I hadn't rocked her to sleep since she was 18 months old, at most. And, it was in our old house. Our first house. Her first room. Painted a light yellow. Trimmed in purple. Her door just a few steps away from mine. Home. 

Now, we were years ahead and it was if my mind had just caught up. Slowly rocking. The dark glow of night bouncing on her rosy cheeks. I missed our old home. I missed our old life. The one we left five months ago.

It was the middle of summer, Justin and I had been lazily browsing house listings on a regular basis. I wasn't too serious. He was. The night before we had the Realtor over to sign the papers and hammer the 'For Sale' sign in the front yard, I hesitated. I can never commit to such a big decision. The whole cause and effect theory consumes me. The year ahead was already harvesting big life changes - why add one more?

It didn't take long for Justin to convince me. Not 24 hours after listing and our first home was sold. A few weeks later we found the new home. 

We spent the rest of summer packing, moving, vacationing, then packing and moving again. A few boxes remained when autumn blew in and our almost 5-year-old started kindergarten. I kissed his cheek. Kids poured around me and Ella as we watched him walk into school. My voice cracked as I told her to never grow up. She started a new preschool a few weeks later. Just like that, our new life had begun.

I hadn't anticipated a new beginning. Yet, everything now seemed so changed. Our routines were different. Jack was a kid with big words and independence. Ella started using the potty. Defiant, but still sensitive. I found a balance with work and family. We were all growing, not just the kids. 

Sometimes I still mourn our old house. Our old life. Simply because the kids were little. Their first crawl. First smiles. First everythings were at that house. I miss the expected. The secluded master bathroom. Hearing Jack kick off his blanket as I fell into sleep. The sun streaming through the kitchen window every morning. The creaky pantry door. 

Most times, I'm in love with the new. Saturday mornings of hockey practice and donuts. Ice skating and boating out the back door. Coloring on the back deck. Breakfast surrounded by the sunlight. And, the smell of coffee greeting me every morning.

I stopped rocking. Ella's deep breathes filling the still room. As I softly laid her in bed, I realized that's exactly what I needed. To really see the life in front of me. Listen intently as Ella recites a fairy tale. Build a master suite of Legos with Jack. Skate on the ice. Live this life. Break the old habits and just spend a little time rocking.