New! House!

The keys to our new house dropped into my hands on Thursday--well, one key, anyway, enough to get through the front door and marvel at the midafternoon emptiness of it. One key through one lock, opened one door into a foyer, and up the stairs, and into each room and each closet, sniffing out the space like a cat, running my fingers over everything. Mine. Ours. Under the stairs, up into the attic, open all the kitchen cupboards and drawers, turn on all the taps, experiment with the thermostat. Lie down on the floor in Munchkin's room, to contemplate this ceiling that is ours now, too.

Step everywhere, touch everything. Open the windows and look through them all. And then out into the yard! Ours, too! Walk the perimeter, touch the trees, the flowers, look around. Drink it in.

Then into action: I brought a blanket, some juice boxes, three pairs of Crocs. A bottle of champagne, a package of cookies. Art from daycare, some tape. The toy farm and all its constituent animals. My cell phone. A new doormat in front of my new door. Our new door.

I made a picnic for my family while they were busy with their days; I picked everyone up and phoned ahead for pizza. We begin to make our house our home, by our presence, by our rituals, by these little celebrations, the three of us, together:

The previous homeowner had heard that Munchkin was really taken with this kitty-cat cookie jar, and left it behind for us. I filled it with cookies, and Munchkin is full of praise for "Mar-ga-ret, Mar-gar-ret, leave you a cookie jar wif a cookie in it."


An empty house, with a Fisher-Price farm in it? Is home:


We had our picnic in the 'dining room' on a blanket, balancing plates of pizza and watermelon and grapes on our laps. Munchkin loved it. I think we all did:


Our celebrations are family celebrations now, with little boxes of apple juice nestled in the fridge next to the champagne.


I was very sad to think of leaving our first home, our home that Pynchon and I bought as newlyweds, our home where Munchkin was conceived and where we got to know each other. I was thus surprised at how right it felt to walk into this new home together, Munchkin discovering her new room! new room! with her daycare art taped to the door, running into and out of all the closets and yelling boo! How right it felt to hear Pynchon opening and shutting all the cupboards as he explored. To move into this house as our family of three, all together, eating pizza on a blanket and scattering plastic animals all around, everyone in their slipper-Crocs, all together.