home, James.

Yes, I'm home.
Yes, it was fun.
Yes, it was cold.
No, I'm not ready to move there myself.

A few points of interest:

1. I really like public transportation. Especially in a city in which the laws governing the road are held so loosely. But underground trains make me squeamish, literally. It's like riding in the back of a church van, only much faster. I'm sure if I did it more I'd get accustomed to it, but I'm just saying. Also? The world of public transportation looks very different for mothers of young children. What would you do with the double stroller? And how in the WORLD would I keep my very lively children from talking/touching/tackling everybody else?

2. No, I am not ready to move. I love my life here, and it's not time to go yet. I know that it's not time just as surely as I know someday it will be. What the weekend made me anxious to do was clean my house. Isn't that funny? But we've been here two and a half years - longer than we've been anywhere since we got married. I'm pretty good at staying on top of clothes and toys, passing them on to someone who needs them once we no longer do, but it's the random crap that gathers over time - old cocoa tins and mostly used bubbles and a now defunct comforter - that need to be addressed now. Also, when you move often, you aren't usually in a place long enough to create grimy corners or mildewy tiles. But friends, if you stay in an older house, and especially if you teach babies to eat in an older house, it is entirely possible to build up all manner of funk over time. So I'm ready to PRETEND like we're moving - clean out the kitchen cabinets, scrub the corners of the back bathroom, clean the carpets, sweep the closets. All the things you do before you leave a place and just after you move in, that have not been done here in a while.

3. My mother called us Pioneer Women. First of all, I don't think driving a U-Haul (while towing a car) 700ish miles is all that adventurous. I think it was the trek through the heart of D.C. in a car, the loading of boxes from Ikea, and the building of furniture that made us feel as though we'd accomplished something uncommon. We even hung level shelves and hung a door onto a cabinet. I am woman, hear me drill.

4. Brian and the kids were fine. Once or twice Brian called to ask where Silas' crayons with the fat handles were, or where Asher's winter coat was. But Brian was fine. We've heard several people joke along the way about Brian being overwhelmed or unable to care for his kids for four days, but our family is not set up that way. He knows his kids' routines, and can handle crowd control as well as I can (which is to say, at times very well, and at times, barely at all).

Enjoy your living rooms, everyone. It sounds like it's cold everywhere right now.