It’s here.  In five short hours, people will be walking through our house, opening our closets and cabinets, and judging our home.  And I am stuck wondering, “Will it be good enough?”

We have waited for this moment for months, but I wasn’t sure we would ever actually do it.  After all, moving a thousand miles is a big deal.  So is all that it entails – selling a house, buying a house, finding a job.  Leaving friends who have become family.  Explaining to Robbie that while he won’t see his best friends anymore, he’ll get to see Nona, Pops, and Aunt Halaree and even make new friends.  I’m a little terrified, though, that he’ll forget the people who were so instrumental in the first three (how has it been three?!) years of his life.

And so here we are.  Hoping to find the perfect buyer, sooner rather than later.  Reminding ourselves that this is the right move, even though it will be so hard to leave our little treehouse.  Our first real home, where I struggled navigating stairs in the middle of the night when I was nine months pregnant.  Where taking laundry to the basement is a hazardous occupation.  Where Robbie learned to crawl, say his first words, and walk.  It is a house that, when we have one, our second child will never know.

But it will be fine; we will be fine.  After all, without any ‘ventures, what would there be to look forward to?