It always feels the same--same smell, same stores, same fields. Same everything.
Twin Falls, Idaho. It's the place where I grew up and started my journey to myself.
This trip was different, since I went sans most of my family. And it felt like a holiday--no kids, no commotion, no responsibility. (Only an experienced mom of a lot of kids would view a weekend with a nursing baby as "no kids." It's weird how hard one child seemed when I had just one, but by the time you've done this for almost 20 years, one is definitely a holiday.)
It was almost like being a kid again--Mom made meals (and pumpkin bread!), and Dad took care of the animals. Mom sewed sleeves on little sisters' wedding dresses and made Heidi's veil, and Dad worked and held Baby while he watched the Olympics. Home is the only place where you already know what's in the fridge before you open it, where you know you can use the hairspray and lotion without asking, where you know what's going to be said almost before it's thought--where you're loved. This trip was such a treat for me.
But when I got back to my home, I was rewarded with hugs, kisses, commotion, yelling, crying (lots of crying--Hyrum hadn't napped in four days), parries for my attention, a clean house, and clean laundry (can you believe that one?). And I was so happy to be back where I really belong.
As I prepare for this wedding and for Tucker to leave for school in June, I can only wish, pray and work so that my kids have the same special memories of home, always drawing them back and reminding them how much they were and are loved. That I can be that kind of parent.
I hope that I am providing the place my children will long for when they are adults, the place that conjures memories of love and commotion, the place that was and will always be home.
I love my life.
Hey!! Whaddya mean Hyrum didn't nap in four days? There's photographic evidence on your own blog that he napped! Right there in the family room. And drool stains on the carpet to prove it too.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great trip for you! Sadly, my mom sold our house that we grew up in about 10 years ago. I still drive by it sometimes when I'm down on the Cape. It looks so much smaller than I remember. Or maybe I was just small in it!! I'm happy you love your life! You have a wonderful family...
ReplyDeleteWhat a sweet post, and sooo true! I'm NOT looking forward to my parents selling their house, it breaks my heart. So glad you got to go home for a "treat" of a vacation. From Brads post, looks like things were held down ok. At least he gave me a good laugh.
ReplyDeleteIt was sooo wonderful to have you come. Your baby is always your baby and I love to have mine come home. Can't wait to see you in a month. Good luck with all the preparations.
ReplyDeleteLOVE
I'm glad you had a good time in Idaho! These are the same kind of feelings I had when I posted the other day... I had that kind of home. I HAVE that kind of home, I guess, since I'll be back in June. But I also remember the Denton house with some of those same homey feelings. :)
ReplyDeleteWhen I talk to my sister-in-law, I have to remind myself how hard that first baby is. She seems so overwhelmed and I look at her life as a breeze. I love my childhood home and neighborhood. In fact when we were looking for a lot to build, I was so frustrated that I couldn't find a neighborhood like the one I grew up in. So glad you were able to have such a great visit home. Yeah for moms and dads and pumpkin bread!
ReplyDeleteBut you already ARE that kind of parent. I can see that all the way from here.
ReplyDelete=)
I totally get the whole going out of town with "no" kids.... but taking the baby :) Going to provo in the morning with no kids... but I am taking Isabella.
ReplyDeleteAs for the bottle? I NEVER feed my babies bottles. They get SO mad. Like EVE mad :).... My suggestion would be to leave her with Brad :) on a Saturday ALL day and maybe by the end of the day she will give up and take the bottle.
With my babies I work nights and so they learn quickly to take the bottle or starve. so sad. but so true.