Why yes... yes I do.
This concept has been on my mind a lot lately.
You know, Husband and I bought this house of ours four years ago... when we were 26, newly married, and newly pregnant.
I pretty much searched realtor.com until I reached the end and then decided on a town exactly 60 miles from where we grew up, because we could get a lot of house, for a little money.
And we did.
Our Tiny Place, is not actually tiny... it's pretty large, and on a pretty decent piece of land....
In a town we know nothing about, at an end of the state we had more or less never been to...
Our family, and everything we grew up around, is 60 minutes South.
None of this mattered to us before, but now... Lovebug is getting ready for school in a few years.
And we don't get to see our family as much as we'd like.
And for the love of God we need a date night... just one.
I know I could care.com-it-up and find a sitter but you know what... I'll just come out with it... I don't trust people..
And no one would want to work for me when I answer the door and say, "Pee in this cup, and give me a lock of hair, your Social Security card and oh yeh... here's a breathalyzer."
Sorry, but my kids are my heart and my soul... call me crazy, but no sitter is good enough. Yet.
One day I will be desperate like my mom and stop teenagers in the grocery store... but I'm not there... yet.
I know some of my readers live 8 or 10 hours away from their
Living exactly 60 minutes away from family sometimes just feels like a tease.
It's close enough to do day trips on the weekend, and far enough to ruin our nap schedule... and be annoying with two antsy kids.
I am insanely jealous of people who can just stop by and see their families... or who can call their Mom and say, "Do you care if I drop the kids off for an hour while I run to the store?"
Oh to grocery shop alone... or, to not have to pack twenty seven bags every time we go anywhere.
I feel especially lonesome to have family nearby when Husband travels.
I find myself begging my friends for mid-week dinner nights...
"Please, oh, please, oh please... I'm so lonely... have dinner with us, please, please?"
I'm so annoying when I beg.
I feel like we came to this town, where we knew no one, and made ourselves a sweet little life.
I feel like we were planted... and we bloomed.
We painted, we scrubbed, we labor-of-loved this place upside down... we joined a community, we made our own friends, made friends for our kids... made a life.
We brought two babies home from the Hospital, and have begun to raise them into semi-nutty, super cute tiny humans... in this little spot that we were planted.
Writing this is making me feel guilty, but I swear, I promise, we love this life....
But I have this itch.
This... I-want-to-move-closer-to-what-I-know itch....
Back to where I was raised... to a place where no matter how long I am away, when I go back, it still feels like, "home".
Back to the town where I met my Husband... which just so happens to be... one of the wealthiest counties in the Nation.
It is so close, yet so far... we could never afford that move right now.
But if we could...
Can you ever go back?
To where you were raised?
Does it feel weird?? Does it fill the void??
Would we work so hard to afford to live there, that we didn't actually get to LIVE there?
Will my kids have my friends as teachers??
Will they see my name on the wall in a bathroom stall?? (hopefully they will have painted since then).
Will I immediately regret living too close to our Mothers and beg the new owners to sell us back our house??
Moving is a long way off... but I think of it every day.
Of giving this home and town and life the very best that we've got...
Of blooming the shit out of this garden that we planted...
and then maybe.... a year or two down the line....
ripping out our roots, and growing them somewhere else.