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On the Move

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My husband and I always joked that it would be easier to move than to baby proof our old apartment.

couple in new apartment

Christina Montoya Fiedler: Well, guess what, we ended up moving and not because we needed to baby proof (well, OK, that had a little to do with it) but because we were severely outgrowing our little nest. It was sad to leave our very first apartment. It's where our love blossomed, and where we became a family. I remember apartment hunting with the zest that only a bride-to-be could. I remember coming home from our honeymoon into the apartment still packed with unopened wedding presents and the aftermath of a our wedding. We spent our first Christmas together there, announced the impending arrival of our son, counted minutes in between contractions, and welcomed a new life into our world.

The place was perfect for the two of us at the time -- small, warm and inviting with tons of character. But when our baby came along, what was once small was now crowded. Warm was now suffocating. And, character was, well, old. We were bursting at the seams with baby equipment, clothes, kitchen appliances and other household items. We began to dread holidays and birthdays, for fear that one more gift would pop our apartment. We swore off shopping and became minimalists in order to cope.

On top of that, our son was still in our room, and he was bearing down on his year birthday. We told ourselves that once he was old enough to peer over the edge of his crib and greet us in the morning, we'd move. That time had come.

In our final night at the old apartment, our lives in boxes, we looked back at what we had accomplished in our short time as a married couple, and looked forward to the adventures that the new apartment would bring. Our son would take his first steps there, he would learn to use the potty, drink his last bottle, and experience the joy of the holidays and his first birthday in this new home. And, as a family we would create lasting memories.

In moving we realized that a home is just a home -- four walls and a roof. It's what's inside that counts -- the people that come and go giving life its spice, the warmth that builds when laughter fills rooms, and the smell of dinner in the oven and a snoring husband at your side.

We're unpacked for the most part. A few boxes here and there. Still have to build that Ikea bookshelf for the bedroom, and I'm sure the words Daddy says while doing so will be the first of many memories to come.

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2 comments so far | Post a comment now
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