Michael and I have moved 6 times in the past 6 years (okay...maybe 7). Blame it on college, work, bad neighbors, a new baby....whatever the reason we have just been on the move. Normally packing up our apartment hasn't been emotional or a nostalgic event....however this time around it's a very different story. Don't get me wrong, I'm not rolled up in a ball crying in the corner or anything, we are moving to a single family home for the first time since we've moved out of our parents house-so naturally we're pumped about that (no more crazy neighbors leaving used swimsuits at our door for me-nuff' said). But this time around my heart strings are pulled a little bit, because this is the first place where we walked through the door with our precious new baby. I reckon that is a feeling you will always remember. Bewilderment, Joy, Fear, Anxiety, Excitement, exhaustion; it was all experienced in these four walls for the first time. (what makes it even a little more special, is this coincidentally happens to be the very apartment building my parents brought there first child home to...which was me!) I spent countless hours sitting on this couch holding this sleeping baby, feeding this baby, playing with this baby. I've watched her grow from a helpless newborn, where survival is her main objective- to a toddling, strong willed, funny, sweet, "almost-toddler". Some of the best moments of my entire life were experienced in this apartment, and I'm so happy those are memories I get to take with me to where ever we call home next!