See ya, Iowa.

(You know how blog posts without pictures are really boring? I'm just going to sprinkle unrelated pictures in to keep you interested.)

I'm feeling a little bit sad to be leaving Iowa in 3-ish weeks. Bear with me while I get nostalgic. Feel free to read the rest of this post in a kinda weepy voice, preferably with cheesy "good times" music playing in the background.

Jeff and I had barely been married a year when we moved to Davenport, and we just celebrated our 4th anniversary last month. The bulk of our marriage has been in this town, in this house. We've made all of our plans here, and talked about our dreams for our family and what we wanted in our future.

We've made such great friends here that I hate to leave behind. There are so many women here in our ward and town who have been so inspiring to me and have really shaped the image I have of the wife and mother I want to become. I'll always be grateful to them for making me want to improve and change, and helping me through my own struggles.

And of course, this is where our family grew. It breaks my heart a little to leave the house that we brought our sweet baby home to--it's full of so many happy memories with Forrest . . . like the day we found out we were expecting him right before Christmas (talk about a great Christmas present!), setting up his crib, sewing his baby quilt, deciding on the perfect name for him, giving him a tour of the house when he came home from the hospital with us, listening to him scream for 20 hours a day for 3 months straight, never mind, let's leave those memories behind, peeking into his bedroom to see him sleeping at night, listening to those early squeaky giggles, teaching him to wave at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I know we'll make great memories wherever we go and I'm excited to start the next (big!) chapter of our lives, but I sure will miss walks on the bike path that's right outside our front door, trips to the Mississippi to watch the eagles, meeting Jeff on campus, the sun setting behind the trees in our backyard, sitting outside in the sunshine and chatting with our neighbors, seeing all of the friendly faces at church on Sunday, the ungodly Arctic winters (ha! not so), pigging out at Culver's (oh, how I'll miss you, Culver's!), watching all our little friends grow up, and driving past miles of cornfields in the summer.

Oh, Iowa. Somehow you weaseled your way into my heart.

(But! I'm so excited for mountains in the background, family dinners, hugs from my nieces, baking with my mom, watching Forrest play with his cousins, pretending to enjoy skeet shooting with my dad, laughing with my sister, eating at Brick Oven and Zuppa's [please tell me Zuppa's is still open], Plato's Closet, street names/directions that make sense, a temple on every corner, hopefully receiving a made-up-Utah-ward-only calling like hymnbook coordinator, and trips back to BYU. Go cougs.)