Some may say that choosing to live in your parents house again as a family is a step backwards, but I can't express enough how wonderful it has been. Its been healthy and healing. Imagine how for centuries humans lived together in large family groups. Joys and frustrations were shared and nothing was shouldered alone. We've rotated our cooking dinners, and discovered that it gives all of us a break.
Then there is the unexpected beauty of seeing my children playing in the rooms I grew up in. On the wooden floors I played with my own brother on. I enjoy sticking my head through the doors and seeing my children play with my brother's old legos the exact way we used to play as children. Its oddly healing to be "home" again as a family, preparing to launch again into the world and into our own home and adventures. Its wonderful seeing my step dad snuggle with his grandson while he watched the Giants game at night, or hear my babies run barefoot down the hallway in the morning s to greet grandma having tea in the dining room.
This is a phase. It will pass quickly and be gone. I am settling in it comfortably and enjoying it before it is a moment and chapter to add in the pages of our family story.
