When J. and I got married we could count on one hand the number of homes we had grown up in…combined.
Since we have been married? We have lived in Ann Arbor, went out to San Francisco, back to Ann Arbor, including a little stint in the lovely Ypsilanti. Then it was back to the Bay area, and off to Miami for a year or so, and back to San Francisco. Then we had a brilliant idea, “hey, let’s try out the midwest again, see if that snow is any more tolerable?” and headed to Chicago, and greater Chicago-land, for a bit. And I think we all know the answer to that question, since we hightailed it back out to the west coast pretty quickly and live, once again, in sunny California.
My point to all of this, besides the fact that we seem to be a bit nomadic (or part gypsy, I’m not sure which?) – we have had many, many, many apartments and houses. But I am a pretty firm believer in “home is where you make it.”
And my home is wherever my little family is.
It is where, if you listen closely, you will hear shrieks and squeals bouncing off of the thick, photo-covered walls. You will see little underwear-clad, tutu-wearing ballerinas slide across the hardwood floors. You will smell the mingling scents of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and a crackling fire burning in the fireplace. And, if you look hard enough, you can always find some arms that are willing to wrap you up in a big, love-filled hug and whisper “I love you’s” in your ear.
I do love to travel and visit new places, but I also really do love to come home. It is the one place we can all just sit back, relax and watch the world go buzzing by around us.
Find out where everyone else’s home (or heart) is over at Stacy’s.