Personal Narrative: My First Time Moving

First time moving
I loved to play in the backyard of our little suburban house on 842, Tiablanca rd. In the front yard, the grass was cut neat and cleome flowers hid most the mold at the base of the house. On the porch, there was an old rocking chair with the paint mostly peeled off and that’s where my Mom would sit in the mornings because it had a great vantage point of the street so she could watch as my brothers waited for the bus. There were Wooden panels that lined the windows in front and they once match the rocking chair and the side gate that led to our tiny back yard, that was filled with overgrown grass and weeds high enough for me to hide in and no one would be the wiser. I’d spend more time out there than I would inside. After I’d finished the homework my mom would give me, I’d jump back there to make thorny mud pies and play silly games. One game, in particular, I liked to call “goose hunt.” It was a pretty simple game. I’d throw a bunch of balls into the tall grass and the try to find them all within 2 minutes. I loved to see how many my friends could –or couldn’t find
Mostly because my dad stopped at a trampoline park, and the super tall buildings, but also because I was excited to see what my new home would be like. Maybe having my own room wouldn’t be so bad, if I could fill it with anything I liked.
And so on the second day after leaving home, we made it. It was nothing like home. It was huge in comparison and there were a lot more kids around. I could see my grandma whenever I liked and the backyard was as a lot bigger than my old one. It still took time for me to get used to being in a new place, but I was no longer troubled by change. I realized that it was just a part of living, and in doing so, I grasped one of the building blocks that made me into the person I am today. Another would come three months later when my mother would announce that she’s pregnant with