You may know - especially if you've visited for any long period of time - that A has not liked our new house. The first few weeks, I thought he was just taking some time to adjust. The house is larger, and the upstairs bedrooms threw him for a bit of a loop. But for months after we moved, even this past week, he kept asking to go back to our old house. A lot of times, he brings it up from out of the blue. We'll be driving home and all of a sudden he'll say, "I don't want to go to our new house. I want to go to our old house." He remembers details that surprise me: the garage under the house, the pull-down ladder to the attic, the woods in the backyard. It's been a bit heart-breaking for Paul and I. A big reason that we moved, after all, was to give the kids more space to grow and play.
Fast forward to today: the kids and I took my mountain bike and the bike trailer to the library. Taking the trailer was Aaron's choice. It may seem like a silly one - the library is only a quarter-mile away, so we spend nearly as much time buckling in and out of the trailer as we do riding. But it feels oh-so-good to pedal my legs, and I think it's some of the best bonding time the kids get. While I'm strapping them in, there's always a lot of whining and crying. But as soon as we start moving, I hear silence punctuated by the occasional giggle and squeal. It's nice.
Anyhow, we were riding the "back way" to the library today, which involves riding past the park and over about 10 yards of grass to avoid the busy road. Halfway there, A exclaims, "Mama, there are two ways to get to our library. You can go around that way. (Insert long explanation of the other route.) Or this way. (Insert long explanation of our current route.) There are two ways! Two!"
He paused briefly, and then said, "I like our house. I don't want to move anymore. I want to stay here."
I was happily shocked, but just smiled to myself. Progress is good.