It feels surreal.

When friends ask how it’s going, I have one word only: surreal.

Maybe…. dreamlike.

It feels like I’m living someone else’s life and haven’t fully grasped that this is now my reality.

I’ve always loved a challenge. Still do. And this, my friends, is a challenge. Uprooting your life and moving back towards home is a BIG change. But it also means that every day feels new, and adventurous, and challenging. It means I am constantly trying to get back to “reset” in order to be present as a mom, as a human. But this feeling of home — there’s nothing like it.

I was always skeptical of geography and how important it really could be. I have always felt the pull back east. And driving on 95 — with the music blaring — feels good. Smelling salty air while at the lobster shack — it feels good. This is where I belong.

We’ve alternated our days and hours between naptimes, beach trips, errands, unpacking, lobster rolls, and hosting visitors.

Yes, visitors.

We’ve had eight visits since moving into our house two weeks ago. That feels good.

We’re home.

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