Wasting time

 I'm supposed to be finishing up a paper tonight.  I really just need to do a quick proof-read, but instead of getting it done and moving on with life, I decided to explore the nether-regions of the "Pictures" folder on the computer.  I used to be really good at organizing all the pictures, but lately (for the last, let's say 5 years) it's completely a mess.  The pictures get downloaded when they get downloaded, which is not very often, and they don't ever get sorted into folders.  They just sit exactly as they were from the camera.  Anyway, I found a folder that I hadn't really noticed before called "from camera."  What a name!  How descriptive!  Aren't all pictures "from camera"?  I was looking through this hodge-podge of pictures, which included everything from camping trips to Christmas, and found these of Elise that made me sad. 

 
There's nothing special about these pictures, except they are my Elise, and she's so little.  These pictures were taken soon after we moved here (about three years ago), and seeing them, and seeing how little she was, makes me sad to move because this is the house she has always known.  She only remembers ever existing here.  Frank has vague memories of living other places, but even for him, this condo really is home.  I didn't ever move as a child , so I don't really know what they are going to experience, emotionally speaking.  I know they are both going to desperately miss their friends, and while I know they will make new friends after we move, it won't really be the same.  Here, we are surrounded by families with lots of children.  Elise can run across the parking lot and find at least four little girls her age to invite over (all within visual distance of my front door).  We won't have that after we move.  I'm glad to be moving, don't get me wrong, but there are definitely reasons to mourn the passing of our time here in this little condo.