Rebekah, in the future, that is. About 3 weeks from now to be exact.
I'm dropping you a note to remind you in a few weeks that you really do like it in Pennsylvania ... Because I'm sure after a few weeks at home-sweet-home, you're going to forget. Don't.
Every person that I've met up here and is sweet enough to be your friend, has made some sort of comment/inquiry about whether or not you're coming back ... Which obviously you are.
You are, Rebekah.
It's not a real question ... Don't get any crazy ideas.
So here are some reminders:
Uno. The hubs.
Clearly, the kids need a daddy. And their daddy is in Pennsylvania. And since he is funding your whole operation, you're gonna need to get your tail back up north. We had two and a half longgggg months separated before you moved the whole fam up to PA and it was a great lesson, that "leaving and cleaving" had to happen. So leave. And cleave to the hubs. He's cute. And he makes you laugh. And he's a dang good Yahtzee player- doesn't get any better than that.
Dos. The weather. Something tells me about now you're ready for the 75 degree, humidity-free, everything green Pennsylvania. I shouldn't have to talk this one up. It's obvious.
Número three. It's home now. It is. As hard as it is to believe it, it feels like home, too. There is something to be said about being in your own house, on your own routine, doing your own dishes, laundry and porch-sitting. So scoot along, you've had your fun. Go on home.
Fo. F is for Friends. God has given you some sweet friends up here, so it's not like you're going back to nomad land. God has you here for a purpose ... He's doing something here. Let Him finish the work (Finish it quickly, Lord!!).
Cinco. Fun things are around the corner. Trips are planned, visits are on the books and you'll be headed back to Arkansas for Christmas in just a few short months. It's gonna be A-OK.
The younger, somewhat naive version of yourself.
"All our bags are packed, I'm ready to go!!!!"
My fabulously wonderful mother-in-law flew up to help me drive back. I've kinda shocked the pants off everyone by insisting to drive. Especially my parents who graciously even offered to fly my crazy crew home ... But the thought of that started stressing me out to no end. The thought of packing for four of us for three weeks into a few small "airport-friendly" bags and then getting all of said bags through the airport sounds scary as H-E-double hockey sticks. Add in three connections, some occasional behavioral hiccups, and not enough libations to make it go smoothly and I'll take the car. ALSO, I couldn't stand the thought of not having my vehicle for three weeks and being at the mercy of other to tote us around. I'm trying to house-hop as much as possible to not outstay our welcome. And that's the beauty of having our own car. If it turns out we get ready to head on back, we can. Easy Peasy (kinda). Depending on when we come back and AaronBoone's work schedule Aaron will either fly down and drive us back or Rach will help me drive back and fly home.
However, I'm not thinking about that now. I'm thinking about coffee on my parents deck, lying on a raft in Lake Ouachita, the White Truffle Burger at Big Orange, dinners with my PLU's, pool days with my littles and filling up with enough girl talk to get me through another few months. I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.
Get ready Arkansas. We're coming hommmeeee!!!!!
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