This morning my gals and I will have our last breakfast together in our kitchen. Our last morning nap. Our last walk through the front door and down those steps. The last getting into the car on the street outside the house. The last trip together to the end of the street, to stop at the lights and leave our street behind.
Oh. Oh. I feel so many things this morning. I feel nostalgia pulsing through my very veins today. Tears on the brim, ready to spill down my cheeks. A heavy heart. And a choked up throat. My girls are about to leave the world that they know behind them and while I know that the new one we are about to enter will be a better life, a more fulfilled life, a more exciting, more beautiful, cleaner, shinier life, I want to think about that life tomorrow. Today I want to think about this one. And all it has given us. I want to remember…
: Celebrating our first Christmas together as a family, the fresh smell of pine as I dragged the tree through the house.
: Seeing Daisy walk for the first time down the hallway and around the corner into the lounge room with the biggest smile in the world in her ladybird all in one pyjamas.
: Sitting in front of the fire on a cold winters night and convincing Rob that a trip to Paris was THE best decision we could make
: Dinners and drinks outside in our little courtyard nattering with friends. And family.
: Sitting in the bathroom on Daisy’s second birthday looking at a pregnancy test that told me we were going to have another baby and soaking up those first few seconds of pure amazement and joy by myself
: A certain first proper cuddle between new sisters on our couch
And there are a million more. So. Thank you Church Street. For all you have given us. And while my girls will probably never remember any of their time here, please know that I am going to miss you. My first little house.