There have been a few moments lately when I feel nostalgic for the life I am currently living. Maybe it’s the cool fall breeze, or the leaves beginning to change color, but something makes me feel nostalgic for this moment, this time, and this place.

I felt the same way my first year of graduate school. We were in a place I LOVED, surrounded by good people, learning experiences, and had the whole world ahead of us. I can honestly say that while there were challenging things, personally, professionally, and academically- I loved that first year of graduate school from the day it began.

But there was something else about that time, not a sadness, but a feeling that the moment was fleeting and that we would never be able to replicate those experiences again,  I knew from the beginning that I would look back on that first year fondly no matter how it ended or where we ended up. This is strange to say, and even stranger for me- I am always second guessing, always consider the alternatives, always wondering if I should have taken another path. But not that one year. I knew we made the right choice.

Fast forward… a lot of years and that’s where I am again. I want to say that I’m looking at my three healthy and vibrant kids with the understanding that they will never be this age again and that’s what I slipping through my fingers, but it isn’t that. I am not the mother that misses her newborns and toddlers- I loved them, but I love that they’re growing up, developing their own personalities (although is it possible to have too much personalty?) and that all of us are gaining a bit more independence with each passing day.

It’s something else. I think it’s something about this place we are in… because there are things about this stage of parenting that I don’t really love.

We’ve moved a couple of times over the course of our marriage, and have left wonderful friends who have felt like family behind in each place we’ve gone. There’s part of us that will always claim Provo, DFW, and North Austin as home no matter how far we go and how long we’ve been gone, and I have a nagging suspicion that is what is happening now.

We’ve been gone from Texas just long enough that it doesn’t sting so bad to think about it. Yes, there are moments when I hear about what our friends are doing back in Texas that are… a major bummer. I think WE should be there at the ball fields on Friday night, chatting it up at Chick-fil-A while our mile long to do lists sit and wait for us, and planning for Friendsgiving. We should be making plans to trick or treat in the neighborhood with friends, laughing about who made the christmas card list this year, and spending afternoons at the park enjoying the “fall” weather with friends. But we aren’t there, and it is starting to be ok (not entirely ok, but starting) that we are here and they are there.

There’s no indication that we are leaving Georgia any time soon, to be honest there are still boxes that haven’t been unpacked from our last move, we are in the process of remodeling our kitchen (never do this), and about to head into our first real autumn, but the newness of Georgia is starting to wear off. What was once confusing and foreign  is starting to become familiar and comforting. Y’all I made it an entire week without Google Maps, this is huge.

I think that sense of comfort and ease is fueling the feelings of nostalgia. There’s part of me that thinks once we settle in, I mean truly settle in and let all the crazy show, then our days here are numbered. There’s a nagging part of my brain that thinks once we find our place, our people, and our rhythm that we will have to move on.

I recently chatted at Chick-fil-A with friends and realized that I’ve now done the same thing in three cities with three sets of friends (apparently I go to Chick-fil-A too often). I don’t think I’ve ever had a really significant conversation outside the Chick-fil-A playplace, but I think we need those fluff moments and the people that are willing to sacrifice their time to fill them every once in awhile. I’m pretty sure that solid friendships are first built on fluff moments.

I’m going to attempt to settle into this moment, this place, and this “life” that we are living. I’m going to watch the leaves change on the tree outside my dining room window, breathe in the cool autumn air, and embrace life in Georgia instead of missing it while I’m living it.