36 days left till we move. The house is asleep and yet I am still awake. Reading in the nursery. Not aloud, but to myself. I'm really going to miss this room, miss is more than any other part of this house. It was the first room I painted, the first room I put my personal touch on, the first room of my daughter and my son. So weird to think that when we have another child, it won't have the same nursery. The crib will be the same, the linens will be the same but the room won't. It makes me sad.

I am so excited to move into our new house. It's like a dream house. I keep trying to think of the perfect name for the house. Scarlett had Tara. Alice had Wonderland. Harry had Hogwarts. Lucy had Narnia. There needs to be something. But I can't think of it, not the right one. I mean, it's an old house with tons of character. It needs to be something... something great. But I just haven't found the right yet.

Anyways, it's late and I'm up reading instead of sleeping. All because I'm reading. I don't read as much as I should. I am I love with this book. Something about a good book that makes me want to write. Makes me narrate my life in my head (like someone would be interested in reading my life ha!)