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Moving on up (to Durham)


We have done it people! Mark and I have graduated to adulthood, or at least the stereotypical American version of what it looks like to be an adult. We've packed up our small apartment in Raleigh and moved north to the suburbs of Durham. After longingly house hunting in the hipster neighborhoods of five-points and oakwood, here I am, a Durhamite Suburbanite. Sure, I might not be able to walk down the street to a euro-inspired cafe, but when would I EVER do that with four children under the age of 5 anyway? 

We decided the best thing for us would be 1) space to house my growing belly (see above) and 2) a short commute for Mark. He will be my greatest ally in surviving this parenting thing, so it's best to keep him close. He has a short 8 minute ride into work, which means I will have that 8 minutes timed to the second from the moment he calls, to the moment he steps foot in the door. 

"Welcome home honey! Here are two crying babies. I'm going to sit in the tub. With earplugs. And wine."

The moving thing was definitely hard, especially because I was carrying two Schulte boys along with each box. But we survived it and we have Mark's parents to thank for that. They completely supported us through emptying our old spot, to preparing our new digs. Grandpa Richard painted three rooms with the help of Grandma, Aunt Bala and Mark. He also changed our air filters, made a safety gate for when the babies come, and took care of a bunch of other random things we would never have thought of or had the skills to complete. 

When they were about to leave, I felt just like I did after having Evy in the hospital. The nurses and doctors took such good care of me and when I needed a rest they would bring her to the nursery. It was wonderful. And then I realized they wouldn't be there soon. It was all on us. 

So now here we are with our house baby and totally clueless as to how to care for a lawn and accumulate belongings that aren't hand-me-downs from Craigslist. It feels like a big step for us and even scary at times, but most of all it feels right.

We're ready. I'm ready. I can't wait to decorate and have people visit! 

Levi was ready to pitch in and help, but Evy not so much...

We've been here a week and this space looks just the same as it's pictured here. I guess that's what happens when you move from small to big. I'm trying my best to be patient in filling it up and I don't want to go overboard, but I don't know how long I'll be able to stand soccer goals in place of couches. 

Our amazing helpers at work and entertaining grandkids...

I have natural light! I used to (half) jokingly call our apartment "the dungeon". Now look at all these windows. We are no longer a family of vampires. 

I joke about our old place and how happy I am to be out of it, but I know I'll look back on those years with fond memories. When I was a kid my parents had very little and I always thought it was good for their marriage to handle the strains of that life. We didn't have it as bad as them (they had me at 17 and made it work), and I know many people live with much, much less. But I am thankful for those years in a small space when we watched our family grow. 

And now, I am so very thankful for a larger home to grow even more. (yay! come visit us!) 

A Yard

Too Early to Tell...