I’ve decided I don’t like moving after all.

After only one night in the creepy old farmhouse (charming by day, creepy by night) I’ve found myself homesick. Not for the old house, I don’t really miss it that much…but for my kids. For the sounds in the night. For the familiarity of the floorplan. I guess I’m just homesick for home. It just doesn’t feel like home here…yet. Maybe it never will without my kids living here. I miss them horribly. And I just saw them today.

They say life is filled with difficult transitions, and this is just one of them. I don’t know about that. It feels almost like a part of me has been stripped away, and I’m not sure if time is a sufficient fix for something like that.

I guess I’ll find out.

Until the next time…I’ll be…yeah…more moving stuff.