Journey to the Knot: Darion

10 years ago this month, I signed my last lease. It was a 6-month lease at the apartment my sister and I had shared for 2 years, and we were signing a short one with the intent of looking to purchase my first house. Luckily, in late November of 2006, I signed a contract on a 3-bedroom house and moved in only 5 days into the new year. Little did I know the house I only planned to live in for a short while, maybe 3-5 years, would be my home for 9 and a half years. And, that's where the story of my life on Darion Lane begins.

I was only 26 years old and proud of myself for buying my first home on my own. Kira and I continued to live together for the next few years - making more memories as room mates in a new place together. We rarely used the huge backyard, shared the garage, and developed our own system for handling chores and responsibilities. Living with her was awesome, and shortly after she moved out, only a few weeks after Sam and I married, I wrote this blog post about our time as room mates together.

Kira & Erick's room became a guest room, and we had room for our niece and nephews to spend the night at our house. A year later, when we found out we were pregnant, we made plans for that room to become our baby's room. Since then, it's been the first bedroom for Banner, for Quinn, and for Knox. We moved the "guest room" to what was originally an office/study. That guest room allowed my mom and my mother-in-law to stay over and help us when Banner was born. Months later, it's where my father-in-law slept the nightmare of a night that Sam's mom died. Soon, that guest bedroom became Sam's first office when he started his own law firm. It was at the door of that room that toddler Banner would knock on the door yelling "Daddy!!" just hoping Daddy would come out to play instead of work. When Sam was able to get his own office outside the house, that room became a storage room, and then we were forced to clean it out and clean it up when Banner decided to crawl out of his crib three times one night just three weeks before Quinn was born. Therefore, that room became Banner's new big boy bedroom. And tonight, with only a few nights left on Darion Lane, my two big boys share that room.

This house has seen a lot of change - both in itself and in those who live here. From ripping up carpet and laying down tile to gutting a wet bar and making our play area bigger, we've put in a lot of hard work and sweat to making it a home just for us. We've painted and painted and painted - nearly every room of this house, and some rooms twice. We've taken down light fixtures and put in better lighting; we've changed out counters and a stove and ducts and roof and skylights... it's been a crazy adventure as a home owner. This house has seen engagements, graduations, birthday parties, nights of endless studying for the biggest tests of our careers, wedding planning, belly bumps, and babies being brought home from the hospital. It's held play dates, Halloween parties, a wedding, minyan, and a week of sitting Shiva.

It's been an amazing house and an even better home. But, we've begun to outgrow it. Truth is, we began to outgrow it long ago, and I've been trying my best to stay here as long as possible, to make the most of our space, and to fight the urge to sell it for the past couple years at least. And, with Knox's arrival, with Quinn's snoring, with Banner's impending Kindergarten year, with toys galore... we simply need more space for these boys and all their things!

So, on June 24th, we listed the house! Five days later, we had a contract! The best part about the offer was that it was from someone we know. Her offer was accompanied by the most thoughtful letter, recognizing that this move will be bittersweet for us, recognizing that it's the only home my boys have ever known. This beautiful family will move in soon, and I couldn't be happier to be leaving it to another Jewish family, another mother of boys, and another family who will know how special Darion Lane has been to us. They will so enjoy the big backyard, the park down the street, the young neighbors nearby, the cozy home they will make their own.

And, we will move out - to a new house not far away. It's a four-bedroom home, so all the boys will have their own room, their own space. We're very excited about it, but I have to say the buying part has been brutal, and the seller has been nothing but uncompromising. But, we weren't walking away from the house, a house we believe will become just as special to us as Darion is and always will be.

This week, we've buckled down on packing. Art work is off the walls, pots and pans are packed, dishes are wrapped, and memories preserved. Through it all, I'm trying to find closure as we say goodbye so soon. It's hard to wrap my head around the idea that we aren't just packing for a long trip but instead will never live here again. So many memories have come fluttering back with nearly each walk through the house:

The baths I gave (and give) my infants in our kitchen sink; the summer we peeled the wallpaper off the kitchen walls with a clothes steamer; dancing in the garage while the car stereo blared; the first showers together; the first steps; videoing Sam carry the infant seat with each new baby too small to really take up any space in it as he walked through the garage and we showed each his new home; knocking down the bar counter; baking Thanksgiving pies with Christmas music on the radio; freaking out when Sam fainted after his wisdom teeth surgery and calling his mom faster than I knew was possible; watching Sam run around the backyard with a 12-month-old Banner on his shoulders; the way our first Sukkah leaned and has progressed over the years to be bigger and more stable; first baths; climbing the ladder to paint the top of the den wall and coming up with unique and creative ways to paint the very top of the vaulted ceiling; hearing the pitter-patter of my toddlers running through the house; saying "no, no" to Banner's constant reach for the television or stereo knobs or the trash cans or the blinds; opening the front door to find a present from Fontina; watching the snow fall on the skylights the afternoon I'm pretty sure we conceived Quinn; the night those skylights came crashing in during a vicious hail storm; building the sandbox for Banner's third birthday; the slip-n-slide parties and the wading pools; Banner's Valentine's party; running on the treadmill I spent way too much money on; our camp out in the backyard one July 4th before we had kids; the days of potty-training, where I sat in the hallway or in the bathroom awaiting a pee or a poop while trying to keep my newly-crawling baby away from big brother's toilet; the endless nights of getting up and down to paci a baby, or the nights we worried they wouldn't sleep without one when we finally "pulled the plug;" hearing those awful dogs bark incessantly at all hours of the night; watching a midnight eclipse only weeks after Banner was born; the walks around the block - especially the "walks" with Bubbie the winter she died; the squeals of happy boys being chased through the house; watching out the front window for our neighbors, Don & Jeannie, to get home; our Thanksgiving overnight with Caden & Mara; the long days and nights of fighting to continue breastfeeding when it was not successful at all; rocking my babies to sleep in the quiet nursery and both begging for more sleep myself and savoring every sweet moment with them in my arms.

This house has been the backdrop of so many milestones and important events. We've found so much love, so much frustration, so much joy, so much sorrow within these walls. All three of my children were conceived in this house, and I was the first one to know about them as I watched each pregnancy test turn positive. This is the last house Sam's mom ever visited us in - the place she made some of her own memories in, including her son's first Father's Day and the night she stayed up all night to make sure he was okay after his frightening car accident. It's where we held each other tightly and sobbed together the weeks after her death. It's where Sam learned he had a temper - and his impatience and frustration has caused several dents that have been repaired and repainted. We've seen a baby monitor fly across our bedroom and a ceiling fan be thrown down in a frustrating installation. It's where we celebrated every year turn to a new one since 2007. We've watched the evolution of characters and mourned our favorite shows ending. We've watched too many hours of Walking Dead, Lost, Desperate Housewives, Glee, Big Love, Parenthood, American Idol, Baby Borrowers, Grey's Anatomy, Rescue Bots, Team Umizoomi, and Yo Gabba Gabba. It's where we pondered the future of our relationship as those around us fell apart. It's where we clung tightly to each other when we just didn't know the answers. But, mostly, it's where I matured, it's where I became a wife, a mother. It's where Sam and I became more than just a couple and brought three beautiful boys into our family.

So, when it came time to list the house, I had the strangest feeling. I felt like I was preparing to leave a child of mine behind. This home is my baby in many ways, and we grew up together. I know it sounds crazy to say that, but it seriously feels that way. I wanted to make sure this home would be well taken care of, that it wasn't going to be knocked down or treated poorly. These walls have heard, seen, and protected us. It is so much a part of who we are and the family we have become. Darion is home. Darion is a part of us. How can we just up and leave?

But, in a short few days, that time will come. As I've told the boys, our things come with us, and yes, that helps, but we will never live here again. It will never be ours again. I was just a 26-year-old single woman when I bought this house and started to make it my own, my home. While I had visions of Sam and I living together in it when I purchased it, I never EVER for one second thought I'd have a child here - let alone THREE! We have been here as long as we needed to be, and it has been good to us. And, yes, I know this house doesn't have feelings, but I hope she sure knows we love her!

Here's a look back over the years -