A Hard Few Weeks.

Dear Henry,

It happened. We moved. And I just can't get my head (or my heart) to believe it's true.

Two and a half years ago we moved into our little apartment, and I honestly was already looking forward to moving from there. Moving is hard. New places are hard. But then we grew to love our little home, and the people that surrounded it. Family was as close as a three minute drive, and we saw aunts, cousins, and grandmas frequently. We worked and went to school in the shadow of the mountains, and that little corner tucked at their base became so special.

Then we brought you home, and that little corner about filled to bursting with love. That little home became a place of "firsts" and so much learning. We made more friends, and said goodbye to a few cherished ones along the way. We knew that our turn to leave would come, but would it really?

And then it was time. We packed up everything we own.  We said too few goodbyes to too few people, We said goodbye to the playground that you played with your friends at, to the trees outside our window that were your very first friends, to the tiny too-warm apartment with too-hard of floors that had become so dear to us. It about broke me in two to see our little home of ours packed into boxes and into the back of a freight trailer, waiting to be pulled away by a stranger, in a big truck to a place that we've never seen, in a house we've never set foot in. We said goodbye to family that we're not sure when we'll see next. And that was the worst.

But that house will become our home. We'll unpack our things, your books and toys and clothes, and it will be home. Family will be more than a 3 minute drive away, but we'll pretend that they're close. We will come to love Ann Arbor. We'll come to love friends there. We'll come to love the green rolling hills.

But we'll always miss living in that little pocket in the shadow of the mountains - our first real home.

xoxo

Mama