Wednesday, 10 April 2013
We have two more nights of living in the Garden Flat. I have mixed feelings. It's exciting to be moving into a bigger space, but I'm sad to be leaving such a beautiful little flat. The place where we made wonderful memories. This is the home where Queenie was conceived and then brought home as a soft, small bundle, fragile in our clumsy arms. We became a family, my heart grew big and proud. Those first few weeks, we lay in bed together and battled through the start of breastfeeding, the proudest thing I've ever accomplished, encouraging me to train as a breastfeeding peer supporter last autumn. We've hosted parties in our lovely kitchen, welcomed friends and family around for food, films and games. We grew modest plants on the windowsill, herbs and flowers. I fell in love with painting, and Liam played his banjo, and borrowed a guitar for a while. I love hearing him play while I cooked dinner. Too much time was spent watching murder mysteries, snuggled up together on our lumpy green sofa. We have had so much fun here. It hurts to think that Queenie wont remember this home, the place her life began.
We decided to move because felt we were growing out of this home, Queenie needs her own space, and we're tired of all the noise coming up from our neighbours upstairs. After months of house visits, we think we may have found somewhere. It's not perfect, but there's something about it I quite took to. It's a house, with a garden, a little more space and most importantly, a bath. It's grown up though, and I'm a bit spooked. Life is speeding up very quickly and I can't process it.
I'm hoping things will be a little clearer when I'm not knee-deep in cardboard boxes and when Liam is home from all this bleedin' training. I miss him so much.
I will be catching up with the 52 posts as soon as I can. Just thought I'd pop in to let you all know I've not deserted this little space.