Moving on.

Oh hey friends! It's been a bit. 

Our little family grew, as you know, but then it moved...
 

Yours truly did a little part-time work on an event for a cause very close to my heart...

And we have been doing a little, oh okay, a LOT of work renovating our new house. Not for the faint of heart, I assure you!

I'd be lying if I told you I haven't been overwhelmed. SO buried that I could literally not tell you where my feet were; that's buried deep y'all. 

But alas!
My event has passed, we survived a trip to visit family and friends in Texas, and now I am excited to get our little family back into a routine and work on making this new house of ours a home.

The casa.

Speaking of homes, I'd like to share a quick ode to the one I left behind.

The first home that I was a part of searching for and purchased. (My husband, well he's a different story, but we'd need a whole month devoted to that! Kidding honey).

The home that I found out I was pregnant in...twice.

The home I learned how to be a mom in, and my husband, a dad.

The home where I specifically remember the moment I understood love. Truly understood how wonderful and painful love can be; this being the unconditional love for a child.

The home I brought both my boys too. 

The home that saw tears and joy. Love and sorrow. 

Where I learned my Grandfather had passed. 

Where I brought new friendships too and watched them grow into life-long ones. 

The home near South Pearl Street. 

An area that cemented my love for Denver. Where I realized, I can do this, I can live away from my family and make this city...my home.

I had no idea how sappy I would be leaving the house, and funny enough, I haven't missed it a day since we left. However, when I was standing in my empty kitchen as we moved the last of our things out bawling like a baby, I realized just how much this home meant to me. It represents a home of firsts and a neighborhood, South Pearl, that will go down in the books as one of the best.

Thanks for the memories, old home of ours.