Oh, Kingsmere

I love memories. Funny, because mine is terrible. Memories are always better than the actual experience. The older I get, the more conscious I am of this. While standing in line at an amusement park, sweating like a pig, with whiny kids, starving for a real meal, I think about how miserable I am. I instantly become aware of how I will remember this day as being SO FUN! The same holds true for our old house. I recently came across some pictures of our Kingsmere house during the move. As I look at the pictures, I think, "Oh, I loved that house. It's so cute!" But I distinctly remember being at the house and hating it. The moment we decided to sell the house, I detached myself from it. I can recall many a conversations with Eric that included, "I hate this place! I can't wait to sell this house."

But for my selective memory, here are a couple of my favorites...

The dark, hardwood floors revealed beneath the terrible carpet. And the kitchen that began with mustard colored counter tops and strawberry wall paper.

And then there was Noah's bedroom. What do you do with all your free time during maternity leave with your second child...paint a mural for the older one, of course! It still looks good.