I like to move it, move it...

Gramps lucky pancakes.

In two weeks, I am moving.

In two weeks, this will pancake fest will not be a bi weekly occurrence.  

So in two weeks, my Dad will not come downstairs every day with coffee and advice,

and my Mom is not going to be my Dancing With The Stars play-by-play cohort.  

Jones is not going to go to the stairs at 5:15 and clap when he hears my folks making dinner, and the girls are not going to get "Grandma Time" every night before bed.  

Change is something my family thrives on.  We love to plan.  We love to plot.  We love to make pie charts and talk about "what if's" "whens" and "hope so's".  But this, this change... it is different than babies, hair color, jobs or goals.  This change is going to cost us.  Cost us a family structure that has served us well the last two years.  It is going to cost us an element of ease, comfort and stability that is nothing short of precious.

I don't want to move out of this House.  With these Parents.  With these friends. 

I do want to move onto this next dizzying adventure with my Boyfriend (the same one I married) and kids and my lone sense of adventure.  I am ready, but my eyes are wide open: this is going to be an adjustment.  

So tonight, I am going to enjoy sleeping under the same roof as the people I call "Lila" and "Broseph"  (And sometimes Mom and Dad.)  Tonight, I am going to wonder if it is Brett, Jones or Joe snoring.  Tonight I am going to thank God, again, that I have lived most of my 29 years with the people upstairs.

And in two weeks, I am going to cry like a baby, celebrate like a traveler finding new territory, and thank God for fresh starts and new adventures.

And then, I'm skyping Lila to talk about who got kicked off American Idol.

  

be family,