Home Sweet Home

We have welcomed ourselves home. We're finally in!

The Teaster's are no longer living in a temporary townhouse and parallel parking along curbs. We are no longer taking our weekly drive down the twisty orchard road to check in on the new house progress. We are no longer waiting. We are now living. We are living inside a home that still feels like a tiny retreat. Something that maybe we have come to to escape the neighborhood life for a day, something we used to do often. It feels like a place where we've come to for just an afternoon to roam in muddy boots to explore, breathe and debrief, except we've come here to stay for good. Can you believe we live here? is a question that Rob and I continually bounce back and forth between one anther. We haven't come to fully comprehend that we are in fact home... that this place is ours... and that we have always meant to be right here since the beginning of us.

Christmas '14 will always be remembered as "our first Christmas here". Our immediate families have made their first visits already and we have had our first evening of dinner guests. Little feet other than our own children's have already run across these floors and I can't think of a better way to break this place in than that. Our first weekend with overnight friends whom we love as family is in store soon. It's real, this place. Feels amazing to share it with the souls we love most.

Our home is situated on the highest part of our humble 2.3 acres. Our 2.3 acres is a sliver sectioned off of a larger 300 acre portion of protected mountain land laced with gravel roads and dirt pathways that lead to many overlooks. We are one of 3 families who live on the 300 acres, which we have permission to explore anytime we please by foot or by ATV. In other words, we got 300 acres for the price of 2. So much history of orchard life, wartime and the fabrication and first usage of early railways that stretches across the Blue Ridge Mountains belongs to this rural community. The views are stunning. We got lucky. I'm still thanking Rob for finding this place for our little family and I will do so until the day I die.

From the front porch...

Slowly but surely, beloved items that I have gathered and tucked away over the years are making their way onto our walls and shelves around this house. I'll save this for the house we'll build one day, I'd say. This is the fun part; taking inventory of forgotten treasures. Treasures from grands and great-grands are being dispersed into plain sight which fills my heart with joy each and every time I look at them. A quilt from my late grandmother now covers my Oia at night while she sleeps. A purple floral kerchief that was also once my grandmothers now resides under Esme's lamp atop her dresser. A few sets of salt and pepper shakers that I always eyed as a small child that were a proud part of another grandmother's collection are tucked safely on shelves around our dining room. Now a part of my kitchen are vintage and antique dishes from my grandmothers that make my heart swoon while longing to hear what wonderful stories they could share if only they could talk. The handmade wooden tool tote that Rob's great grandfather used to carry makes the perfect wine caddy. The wooden figures that my grandfather carved stand quietly throughout but I still hear his voice when I look up at them. The canning jars from my grandmothers cellar no longer hold her vegetables but filter the sunshine from my kitchen windows instead. These are only a few of the tangibles that will accent all the memories yet to be made here that will ultimately help shape this house into a home. We really do feel surrounded by love.

Oia's room... she wanted red. It's her.

Little sister sleeps here. She asked for purple.

We were adamant this house have a playroom. Best idea ever.

The heart of a home. And my favorite window in the house.

Consider us happy. Our parenthood is a day to day challenge but our home and children are blessings that nothing can beat. So home sweet home we will be... right here and living, not ever to be confused with existing.

Halloween is an anniversary of sorts. This crazy holiday never rolls around without my thoughts drifting back to the age and time that Oia became an independent (albeit very unsteady) toddling walker. She was just over 2 years old. In retrospect, I think how absolutely amazing it was that she conquered her own palsied body so soon and took her first steps long before I predicted she ever would. But, living within that intense two years of rigorous therapy with a toddler who was *so close* to walking felt like time stood still and laughed at us and those days of mobility felt so far out of reach. It's all about perspective and it was the first test of our budding patience.

Oia was upright as she held our hand for stability for her first Halloween on the Lawn at UVa. I'll never forget it. She was 26 months old. I remember thinking, more like screaming from the inside "Look everyone! She's walking! She's doing it!" for she had worked so hard to do so but few would understand, so we just smiled a lot and said Trick-or-Treat for her instead. So every Halloween that has followed, I celebrate my child's mobility as we dress up, meet up with Rob at work, gather and fill our candy buckets, and literally chase our run-away 7 year old. She has never stopped moving since her first Halloween on the Lawn, 6 years ago. My favorite family tradition.

This year we were accompanied by a tiny Dorothy and by the swiftest runner around. The runner was not a fan of her race bib so she set her own trend and wore it on her back. That's fine. It's the side of her we see the most. The kid is perpetual motion and is almost always running somewhere despite being told to walk, or slow down. Exhausting, but awesome.

Our Dorothy was not alone as we stumbled into other look-alikes but I'll go out on a limb and declare that ours was the cutest. Ever. Her friends were there too. And even a real Toto, much to her awe and delight.

Although Dorothy is Esme's current obsession, Alice comes in for a close second. We ran into her, too.

Little Red Riding Hood is a cool chic, also.

And a potted baby almost gives me the fever to change this party from 4 to 5. But relax. I said almost.

Always a good night on the Lawn at UVa. Our family's 6th one is now in the books. So thankful to be a part of this University and this community. So thankful for two able children, one of whom learned to walk long before I thought she would and thankful for girls who can run away from me. Even when I don't want them to.