Making Memories

It's been six months now that we've lived in our new house. The tail end of summer was exciting with all the 'newness', and the kids seemed generally very happy to be here. Then school started. It wasn't until they made their debut at a new school with new kids, new teachers and a new bus route, that the new house didn't seem so cool anymore. Daily at dinner we heard them complain about missing their old school and friends.

Daily complaints turned into weekly. Now they complain maybe monthly. The tough part of the transition is (I think) finally over, except for occasional lamenting and pouting about a certain person or feature being missed. Last week the item was the OLD house. Yup. Will, for several days, was sadly reciting all the things he misses about our old house and how he wishes we never moved. We kept challenging him with questions like, "you miss sharing a room with Charlie?", YEP... "you miss that tiny living room?", YEP... "you miss the ONE bathroom we all had to share?", YEP... okay, this was getting nowhere.

We steered the conversation into that of memories, and explained to him that it's the memories he is missing, not the things. I agree, I feel the same way sometimes - we have a lot of great memories of that little place. In fact, last week while we were sorting through old home videos to label, I even got the blues a little... missing our old place. Seeing our kids bathe in a make-shift tub in the basement while we remodeled the bathroom..., sledding around our little pasture..., Charlie crawling around on the old wood floor..., tons of stuff like that. I have to remind myself (and the kids) that we lived there for six years... not six months like this. Making memories takes time.

Thursday, while the boys were at school, Ben and I took Jacob outside late in the afternoon for some fresh air. He'd been sick and it was finally above zero (thirty!!!), so we seized the opportunity for outdoor adventure. Well, mostly walking back and forth in the driveway and playing with toys, but whatever. As I was standing near the shed, looking down across our yard and field, I noticed it was probably sloped just enough to make a decent sledding hill. I grabbed a sled and tried it. Hmmph. I got stuck. However, the snow was just crunchy enough that I could tell if I forced my way down a few times, it might turn into something good. Ben and I both repeatedly scooted down the hill and hoofed it back up MANY times until we had a pretty decently groomed little run.

When the kids got off the bus, they were pretty pumped when they saw their PARENTS out sledding! They grabbed some more sleds, and ya know what? They flew down the hill! With every run, the sleds were picking up more speed, and suddenly the barbed wire fence wayyyyy down at the end was becoming an issue. We all took turns going down, and sometimes racing each other down, but we could never really figure out who won because we all had to abandon ship before crashing into the fence. (I did crash into the fence one because of my failure to launch - luckily it was in a grassy section where the barbs were kind of covered!) The kids were doing a lot of laughing and screeching, and as I watched, I couldn't help but think to myself "we couldn't do this at our old place!" Memory filed.