I step out into the cold winter air. I take a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. As I watch my breath in the winter atmosphere, I take a look at my home. The creamy white siding paired with distinct black shutters, so boring compared to the inside which is full of love, family, and memories. My dad and mom step out the dark red door. “Read to go Nat?” my dad asks.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I say as I take another glance at the place I call home. In the car, my dad begins to talk of the house we are going to look at. 

“The pictures of the kitchen are very nice, I think that this is a strong contender for the move guys!” he exclaims. 

“Where is it again?” I say in a curious tone.

“Franklin, about 25 minutes away.”  I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I know 25 minutes doesn’t seem like a lot, but when you are a freshman in high school and have lived in the same small town your whole life it may have well been out of the state. He continues, listing  the square footage, number of bedrooms, all that stuff. He won’t stop going on and on about how he wants to move. 

“Dad, I thought we were just looking at houses for fun or something, are you seriously considering moving?” I question him but I’m pretty sure I already know the dreaded answer. 

“Of course we’re looking to move, we’re ready for a change!”

“Wh- Wha- What about school dad? My friends? My volleyball team? What about that?”

“Nat, we haven’t even gotten to the house yet, would you relax. We’ll talk about that stuff another time.” Of course like everything else, my parents think I’m thinking too far ahead. Since when is that even possible? Being too prepared?

 We pull up to the light brown house with an ugly, white metal roof. What an odd looking house. As I step into the house it feels as though a brick is being placed on my chest. I could never live here. We walk through the maroon hall to the kitchen with bright white cabinets and a large island. I look over to see my mom’s face. She looked as excited as a little kid on Christmas morning. “Nate, look at this kitchen,” Her eyes practically glimmered,”there’s so much counter and cabinet space. Look at the grand pantry.” She doesn’t see it, but I'm rolling my eyes. We have a kitchen with lots of counter space and a big pantry. We just re-did it, it’s beautiful. I do not understand the point. Why pick up our entire lives now? What’s the point?

After looking through the rest of the house, I am delighted to see my parents are no longer too excited. The upstairs had some nasty carpet and not enough windows. I mean in the room which I assume would’ve been mine there was 1 small window! Basically a dungeon. My room now has two grand windows looking out into the cul de sac where I learned to ride my bike and went down one of the tallest sledding hills ever. Nothing can compare to that view. 

This experience of looking at the house was not something I enjoyed which was weird. I have always liked looking at houses, for fun. But moving, that is completely different. New everything. Big changes. Yeah, I can’t deal with that right now. I just started my high school career. If I change schools now what if I’m too affected by the change? But I try to not worry about that as my parents told me they are not giving an offer on this house. Phew! Looks like we’ll be staying at home. 

Over the next couple of months, I see myself becoming slightly annoyed with the world around me. Maybe annoyed isn’t the right word but possibly just bored. Same room I’ve had since I was 5 years old. Same dining room table, same living room. On and on and on, the days seem to feel the same. Wake up. Go to school. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I can’t help but wonder if maybe moving out of my home will change this feeling into a more exciting one.

Stepping into the humid air of mid-summer, I feel almost excited. Maybe it would be good to get a fresh start. New house, new me. I could decorate a whole new room. Again we’re walking to the car to look at a new house. This time it is warmer and I choose not to look back at our home. 

“Where is this house Dad?” I ask, eager to know what new place we’ll be exploring today.

“Greendale, near Southridge Mall, one of our friends is selling it” 

“Cool, could I still enroll at South Milwaukee High School from Greendale?”

“Yes, absolutely.” He responds in a happy tone. We have been talking about the move and what the effects would be on my school situation. We decided I’m going to stay in South Milwaukee schools as it is just easier to not have to completely start over. This made me see the move as exciting other than dreading it like I did last winter. 

We pull up to the house and it is beautiful. An almost colonial style house with gorgeous landscaping. The sun hit the front door just perfectly at this time in the afternoon. Walking in the kitchen is huge with a large island and many cabinets. As I continued to venture through the house, I observed the large family room and also a side office. This really was a great house. I looked upstairs and the contents further enhanced my opinion of the property. Large bedrooms with many windows. It was perfect. This house changes all my perception of the move. “Dad, I really like this house! Are you planning to place an offer?”

“Yes, but don’t get your hopes up, the realtor said there’s 7 more families coming to look just today. We can try our best.” 

The next weekend, my dad receives the news that our offer was turned down by only 1k. This brings me back to the previously negative connotation I had held with moving. Every single time we see a house we like we could get out bid. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that. By the time we accept an offer I’ll have wished we would’ve gotten some other one. Whatever, I try to not think too much about it and enjoy what I have left of summer.

If things change, then it’ll be fine. I will be good either way. It’s not like we’re moving out of the state. Just out of the home I grew up in, where all of my firsts took place. First step, first laugh, first cry, first birthday, first friendship. All of those took place at home, in a small cul de sac, in a small town, in a state, in the midwest, in the United States. Only the house will change, I’ll still be in the same general area. Nothing will change. It’s not like I’m gonna move schools. I’ll always have my friends. Right?

A late July evening  playing volleyball with the girls I have known all my life, just what I need with all these thoughts wandering through my head. Knee pads, on. Tie shoes, stretch, run, grab ball, throw, set, hit, laugh. Volleyball, it’s my release. With moving, I’ve been somewhat anxious so this is good for me. After practice my friend's mom picks us up. As we drive through my small hometown of South Milwaukee I observe the sun beginning to set creating a tranquil mood over the sky. Oranges, yellows, and even purple. As we drive home I think about the colors and what they mean. To me, they are almost like what is happening in my life. Yellow, reflects my happiness and excitement towards moving. The blending orange fits like a puzzle piece within the yellow patch. It reminds me of the new start I will have if we do move. This makes me think of the new room I will craft. Then comes purple, it’s pretty small in the large sky of bright and warm color. Within the concept of moving purple takes the spot of my fear and worry though minuscule, it still appears. All the things that could go wrong are stored within that fear. Right now, I know that the good will outweigh the bad because I know we’ll find a house here. Where I saw myself in the sky.

When my friend’s mom pulls into the driveway I quickly get out, being sure to say thank you. I look at my home and remember how much I love it. I think I’ll love any place that I live. I step in through the bright red door and am greeted by my friendly golden retriever, Tucker. As I walk into the kitchen, I begin to think about how much I like it in all of its quirks. The squeaky cabinet. The awkwardly small cupboard with a peculiar pull out drawer. I see perfection. 

I realized I was not greeted by anyone except for my dog. Which means my brother and sister are working. I am still very curious as to where my parents are though. I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts to find the one labeled “Mom”.  I press the call button and lift the device to my ear. She promptly and excitedly answers. “Hiiii sweetheart, are you home?”

“Yes mom I am, where are you guys?” I say in a puzzled tone. 

“Dad and I are looking at a house and are talking with the owners now! We’re gonna buy it! Start packing!” She explains this in a loud voice.

“What? What are you talking about? Where? Where are you guys?”

“Franklin, near the country club.” Are you kidding me? The one house they like is twenty minutes away from my school. Down a busy street at seven in the morning everyday would be terrible. It would probably end up being thirty. My breath feels as though it is being sucked from my body by a vacuum. I slowly regain it and respond.

“Wow uh can I see it please before you place an offer?”

“No sweetie, we have to put it in now otherwise someone might get the house before us. But we’ll arrange for you to see it in a few days.” I feel as though my body is standing in the middle of Antarctica and I have been there for hours. Stiff. I think about picking up my life and moving it somewhere else. I was optimistic about moving but now that it’s happening, I can’t think about being anywhere else. South Milwaukee was where I grew up, why couldn’t they just find a house here?

After I have thawed myself and my thoughts, I feel mobile enough to go up to take a shower in order to warm up and get clean. I gather my things and step into the light blue painted bathroom. I turn the creaky shower knob to the hot side, I like my showers pretty hot. A I step into the steaming but not quite burning water I think about my town. The small downtown area was one that I reflected on with thoughts of fun and laughter but also familiarity and peace. The Mexican restaurant, Azteca, is one my family and I have visited countless times. There we would laugh, tell jokes and enjoy each other's company. Down the street is Avenue Coffeehouse where my mom and I would sometimes go on quiet mornings for that small bit of caffeine to get us through the day. Thinking of not being able to live in a small radius to these places in which I associate with such specific and dependent feelings makes my muscles and stomach ache. I do think of what I’ll still have from my city. My school, my education, my friends, it will all still be here. This thought brings me back to the tranquil state of the sunrise I viewed. The sky is everywhere. I will still be able to view that luminous sunset from my house in Franklin. 

About a week later I went to look at the house in Franklin. I’d like to say I liked it at first but I didn’t. As I stepped out of the car it felt as though my heart was beating outside of my chest. This was the place in which I would be until I leave for college for the rest of my teenage years, it’s important to me that I like it. The outside color of the house looks like sand mixed with dirt. This is very displeasing to me as my home has bright white siding that signifies happiness and beginnings.

Home: +1, new house: 0

As I step into the grand entryway, an ugly chandelier hangs down from the high ceilings. I look up and hesitate to test the echo, I have always wanted high ceilings and a grand entryway.

New house: +0.5 (-0.5 for the chandelier), home: +1

I continue to walk into the living room and I hear the dining room call my name. I practically ran to see this extra room off of the kitchen. I begin to picture the nice family dinners and social gatherings we could have in here. It’s a whole extra space!

New house: +1.5, home: +1

I continue to walk across the first floor, the kitchen is similar to ours. A bit more cabinet space but that isn’t a must for me, it’s just something extra. The kitchen flows into the living room which continues the high ceilings from the foyer. I like the windows and it had more room than our living room at home.

New house: +2.5, home: +1

As I walk up to the bedroom area, there are four bedrooms which are very nice. I claim one instantly. Before I do this though, I weigh the pros and cons. 2 of the rooms have a bit more space and front windows but the smaller one at the end of the hall has a slanted ceiling and a walk-in closet. It's different, good different. Next, I walk down two floors into the cold and dark basement. My jaw practically drops to the floor. The ceilings are practically only a foot above my head and the whole recreational side of the basement is about the width of a one car garage. I’m not used to this. Our basement at home is wide and set up with a projector aimed at a tall blank wall. Just this winter I hosted a small group in the basement to watch the Grammys award show. I could never do that in this basement. As I walk through it’s narrowness I feel tears forming in my eyes. The basement is important to me and this is also the first time within the tour that I think about how much I love my home. The properties my home doesn’t hold it makes up for in years and years of memories. 

Home: +1,000,000, new house: -1,000,000

Though some pieces of the new house were not what I’d hoped they would be, I try to focus on the good. Optimism has always been my strong suit. Eventually I’ll get used to the new spaces and I’ll move on from thinking about my home. I begin to wonder what the people of Franklin are like. They can’t be that much different, I mean we’re still in Wisconsin. But, each place has its different teenagers. I could meet them by going to Franklin High School instead. No, that’s crazy. I mean I bet they have better class programs than South Milwaukee and more academic opportunities. But that doesn’t outweigh staying with my friends I’ve known for years. Right?

Summer goes by and I continue to think of this idea all through July. Transferring schools might be easier. If I come to South Milwaukee every day and I’m not at home, what good is it even gonna do? Yes I’ll miss my friends but I can keep in touch with them, the good ones at least. Curious, I often glance on the Franklin High School website and look at their course selection. There’s so many options, especially when it comes to career electives. I mean sure there will be negatives too. Changing high schools and houses, that’s a lot of change for someone who is very reluctant to make small changes to begin with. But, it could be better for my future. 

Near the end of July, I brought this idea up to my parents. I walk across the box stacked hallway, the path just big enough for me to walk one foot in front of the other. I step into their large bedroom and quietly ask if I can talk to them. They’re stressed about the move, I don’t want them to have one more thing to deal with. But I remind myself that switching schools could be better for my future. “ I was wondering if I could transfer to Franklin instead of open enrollment in South Milwaukee? I looked at Franklin’s website, there’s more options than South Milwaukee and I think it might be better for my future.”

“Are you sure honey?” My mom seems almost concerned. She continues, “That's a lot of changes for you at one time but if you do, we will support you.” She nodded in my dad’s direction. And so it goes, we turn in all my South Milwaukee stuff and register for Franklin High School. One problem, they can’t process my registration at Franklin until I officially move at the end of August, then I can select courses and hopefully get into the classes I want. Till then, I’ll just be stressed about my schedule. Oh, and the fact I’m moving cities, high schools, and have to do this all without my sister. PUT A SENTENCE EXPLAINING WHY YOU'RE SISTER WON”T BE THERE

The end of August comes like a firm slap in the face by a sweaty hand. All I have been doing for the past month is packing boxes and going through stuff. My parents moved here 21 years ago and as a family we have accumulated much stuff over the years. But at last I am taping up the last box from my room. My sweaty palms slip as they pick up the tape. It has been scorching the past couple of days. Credit to whoever came up with the term “Dog days of August” because this is the first year I am seriously feeling it. I finish taping the box then stack it on top of another. 

Carefully, I step down the stairs and walk into the even more humid and packed space that used to house our two cars. The garage atmosphere was frantic as my dad, mom, brother, and sister rushed back and forth packing and stacking. Tomorrow my parents will leave to take my sister to school in New York City. The day they’re planning to come back is when both of the house sales close, so it’s gonna be one crazy week. I gently place the box down and then wonder, what if I could go with my parents to New York so I could say goodbye to my sister there and spend some more time with her. I rush up to my mom and ask, “Hey mom, could I pretty pretty please go to New York with you guys tomorrow?”

“Of course not, we have so much to do here Natalie. The movers are coming in 3 days and there’s a final inspection in 2 days. I’m sorry we just need you here.” This frustrates me so much I’m not sure I could even put it into words. It feels as though I’m swallowing a rock as tears welled up in my eyes. How could this come up so quickly? All this thinking about moving and I forgot my sister is moving halfway across the country. I'm not sure exactly what caused it but sitting there in my garage, the bustle around me, I start to feel like I can barely breathe. My heart is racing and my hands feel as though they need to fidget with something. What’s going on? I’ve never felt like this before. I think it’s too much, the moving and my sister leaving. I begin to think of solutions as I’m a problem solver type of person. 

I ran up the stairs into my childhood bedroom. It’s nearly empty. Nothing but a gray pleated bed frame, a mattress, a bookshelf, a desk, and a dresser. This could be anyone’s room and it will be. In my head I know it’s time to move on. I take a deep breath as I look out the window to see the moving truck pull up. Four men carefully step and open the back. I hear them walk in and begin to move furniture out of our home and into a truck.

An empty house has a particular mood to it. It’s a bittersweet thing really, I look forward to the changes that are going on this year but at the same time I’m hesitant of what’s to come. I pack up the last couple things into my grandpa’s car for the first trip over to the new house. I would memorize the same 20 minutes drive in the next two days as we took it a hundred times.

6 months later I’ve finally adjusted to the change. Change is something we all experience but I experienced a little much for my liking. Moving out of my childhood home and changing schools is something that changed me as a person, in good and not so good ways. Through all, the biggest thing I learned throughout moving was the difference between the word house and home.