This Old House

I came up this morning to rouse the baby from his nap, and I found the baby, who is supposed to be napping, looking naughty in his crazy dance pants, and the dog, who is supposed to be guarding, napping.

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And here are the two of them, doing some sort of synchronized dance move:

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With the apartment looking about ready to go, we’re getting ready to move our home into the new space this weekend. Boxes and boxes, poor judgement calls about what we can pack because we “won’t need it until we move” and then unpacked boxes as we search for items that in fact we do need before we move.

The pup and babe don’t seem to know what’s coming. Babies and animals are supposed to have some sort of sixth sense about major life changes happening, but ours seem to be bopping along just fine. Don’t they know the winds are a-changing?? That it’s the end of an era?? I think ours must be defective, or maybe they’re just playing it cool. (I’m pretty sure the dog is defective.)

We’ve got baby-sitters lined up for these two knuckle-heads, and I can’t tell if I should be more nervous for the baby or the dog. Or the baby sitter.

Jon and I have moved several times in the last years, from across the city and back again. Just before starting the business, we lived in Cabbagetown, and Jon and I both walked to work, which was a dream. I’ve commuted across the city before, and I felt like my soul was draining from me every hour I sat in traffic.

When we opened up the shop here in the West End, we knew we wanted to live closer to the shop so we could walk to the shop, do a bit of cleaning or packing in the evenings, and it also made sense when the baby came so there was more flexibility for the baby’s “schedule.” So we moved into a house just up the street from the shop.

We knew, or at least hoped, that living in the house separately was going to be short term, since we ultimately wanted to find a live/work, and I think that mentality (and the busy-ness of the business and having a baby) stopped us from really making this house a home. We’ve never really been the interior design kind, but I think we knew this was just a stop for us.

I didn’t think it was going to be sad to leave this house that we’ve only lived in for a year, but, after the baby came, it kind of became a home on its own.

I’ll miss our Portuguese neighbours who call over the fence as we’re both hanging laundry, “And how’s the little one?” I’m not sure if we’ll miss our crazy black toilet, but we have some good memories with the baby splashing around the tub. In our old house, we used to have a screen door that opened from the left, but in this house, the door to the backyard opens the other way, and it only took Super five months of waiting at the wrong side of the door to figure it out.

I kind of wish we’d taken more pictures, made some beautiful nursery for the baby, planted vegetables out back, but in a way, we didn’t need any of that for this place to be our home. We’ve got a dog that helps the baby out when the baby doesn’t know he’s got oatmeal on his face, a big kitchen table, and a few crazy dreams coming true.

Caleb and Super

 

Let’s pose for one last picture, boys!

10 thoughts on “This Old House

    1. Wonder Pens Post author

      Thanks so much for reading, and I’m glad I was able to meet you in the shop the other day! Good luck as you (re)-organize your Midori 🙂

      Reply
  1. somemaid

    Good luck with your move I’m sure it’ll be fine.Hope the babysitter, dog and most importantly baby survive the experience. Thank you for sharing. I am curious about the black toilet though is the actual toilet black or are you referring to the plumbing?

    Reply
      1. somemaid

        I wouldn’t like a black toilet. I think I find that more disturbing than the bad plumbing thought. Might have to write a short story or something about a black toilet.

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