My husband and I were talking today, and we’ve both been thinking about how many times we have moved in the past eight years.
The irony is that for at least fifteen years before that, we lived in the same apartment in Brooklyn, but since those days, we haven’t stayed in any spot more than four years.
That means our son, who goes off to college next year, won’t have the experience we both had of saying “Yeah, I grew up here., in this house.” Instead, he’ll say, “Well, we moved around alot, from here to here to here.”
Although we think he’s benefit from moving, he would probably disagree–and the truth is, we ended up moving a lot more than we had planned to.
Funny thing is, now that we’ve moved so much, I kind of like it–as much as I want to put down more roots, the feeling of change is exciting.