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We just flew in from Oklahoma and boy are my arms tired!  (Sorry...I couldn't resist.)  Actually, my entire body is tired.  We woke up at 4:45 this morning to make a 7:30 flight home to California.  When I asked the Golfer why he had chosen such an early flight he replied, "You said you wanted to get home early."

Guess his definition of early and my definition of early are two totally different things.

But it has worked out fine.  I've had the entire day--literally--to unpack, start laundry, and find a place to put all of the wonderful gifts that we came home with.  Let me put it this way.  We left with five pieces of luggage, two of which contained gifts for family and heavy coats for the cold weather.  We came home with seven pieces of luggage, which means that we had four LARGE pieces of luggage that contained nothing but presents.  Guess that's what happens when you come home for Christmas for the first time in two years.

Luckily, we made it home with everything, safe and sound.  Now I have the enormous task of trying to find a place to put it all.  The Golfer and I aren't the problem.  It's our two children and all of their new toys that are causing my latest organizational challenge.  Living in 1,400 square feet poses a problem when you are trying to find a place for fifty new toys. 

I tried my best prior to the holidays to purge the old, broken, and outdated toys that the boys didn't play with anymore, but that hasn't made much of a difference.  For now, their room looks like a tornado hit it, and considering that we only have four more months left on this lease of our townhouse, there's a very good possibility that it may stay that way. 

The next six months will hopefully include another move for us into a new home.  When we moved a year and a half ago we left behind a home that I absolutely loved.  It was a darling house that I fell in love with the moment that I saw it.  It was almost harder to leave that house than it was all of our family and friends.  At least we knew that we would see our family and friends again.

When we were home last week we drove by our old house.  I couldn't stop myself from becoming emotional.  The Golfer gently asked why seeing the house made me so upset, and for the first time in almost two years I was able to articulate my feelings about our old house: I'm mourning the loss of what was and what could have been.

When we first bought the house, I had our future all mapped out.  The Golfer's job was only a five minute drive and there was a possibility for promotion.  I would walk the boys to school which was only two blocks away.  We would walk to football games, which is a huge plus when you live in a college town known for limited parking around the football stadium.  We had fabulous babysitters, family nearby, and a full social calendar. 

Life was good, which is about the time when it usually changes.

Instead, the Golfer's job bought us out here to sunny California which became permanent when he was promoted to his dream job this summer; something that we've been working toward for several years now.  We are blissfully happy with one exception--we aren't living in our own house.  We've been renting a townhouse, which has been fine, but we don't have a yard for the boys to play in.  Two boys and no back yard is so unfair.  So is not having enough space for four suitcases worth of new toys.

Life was good where we were, but what amazes me is that life where we are is even better.  I will always miss what could have been.  Like any loss, some take a while to get over.  But I just keep reminding myself of a saying that I heard years ago: "Change is mandatory.  Growth is optional."