Seriously? We're at THAT milestone?

This is me with my brothers, my mom, and my sister Janet in front of the [unfinished] house I grew up in. I was five in this picture, and we're pretty excited to be living here, even if it doesn't have all the bricks it should, or carpet and sheetrock in all the right places yet. And even if every one of our beds is in the family room-- the only room other than the kitchen that is finished enough to house us.

We started building the house when I was three. And believe me when I tell you, it was WE. You see, my parents got the crazy notion to build the house ourselves. OURSELVES!! As in, no builder whatsoever. Well, excepting my dad. He's a pretty amazing builder of many things. I tell you, the three year old me, my baby brother, my five year old brother, and occasionally my older half brother: Completely invaluable when it comes to building a house. Really. We weren't a hindrance at all. They couldn't have done it without us.

I lived in this house until the day I got married and moved to a two bedroom shanty of an apartment the next city over. Two years later, we bought the house I live in now. A house that we'd planned on living in for three to five years.

The milestone?

I have now lived in this house LONGER than I lived in the house I grew up in!! Seriously? When did that happen? (And you can stop trying to do the math in your head right now. It doesn't mean I'm getting old. It doesn't! Spring chick here.)