Moving and Settling In
So it's been about 10 days since we moved into the new house. We moved last Thursday, and spent about 4 days turbo-unpacking so that by the end of the weekend, we had unpacked every box. Then the next week was spent arranging and organizing and even decorating.
So now I can comfortably say that we are almost done.
As T mentioned in his blog post, everything still feels very new. A few months ago, when the house was still being built and all around us were plywood walls and concrete floors, we had our "light switch walk through"- we told the builder where we wanted the light switches to go and what we wanted them to operate. At that time, I couldn't have imagined how the house would turn out. As I look around at the now-finished home, with everything we chose over all those months actually installed in the house, I am still taken aback at the fact that it's actually done.
Everywhere I look, I see the items T and I chose together. The aspects, the features, the placements, the finishes, the very walls, the floorplan, the whole thing. And we had so much fun doing it- and even that fun is part of the house now. The experience, the teamwork, the discussions, the decisions, the delights, the disappointments, the deadlines, the shopping trips, and most of all, the fun- all of that is part of the house. And now we finally get to live here, and I can only say alhamdolillah for that.
I still don't quite know what switches operate what. I flip the wrong ones all the time. I am not on autopilot yet in this house. It feels like home, but it feels unfamiliar still. We aren't taking things for granted yet- we are not blindly walking a path from bed to bath or from kitchen to stairs or from mudroom to kitchen- these paths, inshallah, will become traversed thousands and thousands of times as we age in this house. But today, at this moment, it is all still so new. I still haven't sat on every seat in the house. I still haven't stood in every spot. I still haven't cleaned every crevice, haha!
The newness, once lost, will be lost forever. It will be replaced by familiarity, which is lovely and comfortable and will truly let us know we are home. And I welcome that. But for now, I want to savor the newness.