Home.

Is where the heart is? Where you hang your hat? Is a state of mind?

We're moving. Not imminently, but balls are rolling.

I thought this was a simpler concept at first. We want a bigger house. There. How hard can it be? HARD.

It has occurred to me for the first time I am not just house hunting, I am childhood-backdrop hunting for my baby (babies). We're selecting the scene for so many of her firsts. Her first memory will probably be in this house. A multitude of other firsts she will and won't remember. No doubt a BILLION photos she won't give a chuff about until she's having babies, will be taken here. The walls, the sofa, the floors, the kitchen, the garden; stages for her childhood to imprint on.

Feels big.

Feel this urge to put everything I want for her on our doorstep: friends, fresh air, school, community, trees, parks, sweet shops. Create this mini world where she can grow and smile and breathe and shout and laugh and learn and love until she's big.

Is it that big? Will the home she grows up be responsible for how her childhood is or isn't fulfilling? My short answer is no. Love is key and we will love her with our whole hearts where ever we are.

Oh. But I want her to see trees, everyday. I want her to feel space. I don't want to break up hysterical Daddy-Daughter tickling play-fights because of the neighbours. Could be Mummyography is going rural?

Lesson

We're early on in this journey. Much procrastination is afoot. New stories. No lessons as yet.

This weekend... Euna hand-holds...

 Euna smooches...