There's just something about going back to your hometown. Y'all know I go often, mainly because Mom and Dad threaten me if they don't see the kids at least every two weeks. It's also because I might go loony if I'm on my own with the kids, especially when it's raining and we can't go outside, while Sean is working. Get me out of the house and I'm much better. Emmy and I figured out that I am claustrophobic. Makes perfect sense! I don't mind glass elevators or ski lifts or heights at all. I don't like airplanes, especially little ones. The bigger the plane the better chance I, (and all other passengers,) have of me being calm and collected. I don't mind cars but I think it's because I can always just open the door and jump out. Which no one is recommending but you understand what I mean.
It makes perfect sense. Now does anyone know what the remedy is for claustrophobia? Send it my way. Thanks.
Back to the hometown. It's a great place filled with enough memories to fill one of the nice big cushy airplane that I love. My parents both grew up there and still live in the house that they built when my sister was a baby. Or was Mom still pregnant I can't remember. It's the house where I grew up and the house that I learned to walk in, fish in, water ski in, (well, around,) mend heartache in, and dream about my future in. It's got the best baseball field the area, at least to those of us who frequented it for years and years. While driving by Richards Park memories really flood in. My brother played baseball and so did every boy I ever liked. Until my football-playing husband. Funny, isn't it, when something like that sneaks up on you and before you know it you've been roped into spending Sundays all Fall and Winter watching football on TV for the rest of your life.
Growing up in my house, I swore I'd never marry somebody like that. Sean convinced me that he also liked baseball when he took me to a Ranger game for one of our first dates. He surprised me with opening day tickets which to me meant he totally got me. It was so long ago now that of course I don't remember who was playing but that's not what mattered. We were there. We ate hot dogs. We felt the excitement in the air. We were also newly dating so even watching a football game at that point would have been exciting for me if I'm being honest. Don't tell him that okay? I've complained about the football watching since day one so he fully believes that I couldn't care less.
And other than that phase when Tony was dating Jessica I really couldn't. I will watch the Cowboys now but it isn't the same. I have no idea why. I have no excuse.
My whole point of this post is my hometown. Sorry. Back to it. Taking my kids there takes a lot of work. Especially when we're staying for a long weekend while Sean is at training and stays at work for 6 days straight. Lots of bags, diapers, clothes, shoes, Max's stuff, you can imagine my car. And I have a big car. It's a sight. No matter how much time it takes me to pack up and time it just right between naps, I'm always so glad when I drive into the driveway. The preparation is always worth it.
1 comment:
LOVE IT!!! Yea for Hatchtown!! Wish I could have seen you guys...I would love to meet those beautiful babies in person!
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