The Many Philosophical Faces Of Three

When a child turns three, she begins to take life a bit more seriously. Three is a time of great cognizance and skepticism, an era of bold exploration into the great mysteries about the meaning of it all. A bit of existentialism creeps in as the Three begins to question language and connotations and the authenticity of the human experience. So when you tell the little Three to smile for the camera, suspicion arises. Why should I smile in such a bleak, cruel world? Doubts give way to stark expressions.

But it isn’t long before the darkness passes as the heightened senses of the Three begin to recognize the aesthetic  pleasures the world has to offer. Sunshine. Flowers. Incredibly beautiful, camera-wielding moms.

Happiness blossoms and reigns anew.

As the Three’s enjoyment grows, so does her consciousness. Her acute observation skills allow her to pick up on key elements in her surroundings, and this heightened awareness can lead to feelings of intellectual superiority. Three becomes quite assured of her cerebral prowess – so much so, in fact, that she finds the actions and words of others to be absurd.

It is precisely that absurdity that brings about deeper ponderings in the Three’s mind, often to the point of confusion. Sometimes, despite her usual assuredness, the Three becomes bewildered by those things with which she typically is so familiar.

Finally, the Three does what any Age would do when faced with baffling circumstances. Like a chameleon, she swiftly adapts to her environment. She tosses out society norms, flies in the face of all propriety, and flaunts her own brand of weirdness.

Meanwhile, the One’s expressions remain fairly consistent - a perpetual state of perplexity, most likely due to the antics of the Three.

The Move: Our First Big News Of 2013

When I was growing up, I never had a specific idea about what I wanted my ‘home’ to be like, or where I wanted it to be. I just knew that I wanted a family of my own and a place for us to call ours. My hopes and dreams haven’t changed much as I’ve gotten older, but they have begun to take form in a more concrete way.

As I’ve examined our lives, I’ve seen so much purpose and joy in the path we’ve been on, but I also see so much benefit to making some changes. My husband and I have recently made a choice based on a deep desire we’ve held for quite some time – we are moving back to our hometown to be closer to our families and to eventually find our little spot in the country.

Many people who have moved away from their hometowns probably think that returning to their ‘roots’ would make them feel as though they were going backwards. But I don’t feel that way at all. We’ve been away for many years. We’ve had two kids, grown together as a couple, made some extraordinary friendships, and it’s simply time to take the next step. Moving back feels like a brand new adventure. It’s starting over, in a sense, and yet also moving forward.

I want my kids to grow up in the country, stomping through creeks and catching fireflies. I want them to grow up surrounded by love from their grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins. I want them to live lives that are unhurried, unhindered by the chaos that a city life holds. I want to sit on the front porch with my husband when we’re old, drinking sweet tea and holding hands.

It sounds so simple, and that’s just who we are. It’s who we want to be.

Still, I am brimming with so much emotion that I shed tears whenever I have to tell someone we’re leaving. As excited as I am to embark on this next leg of The Journey (elated, really), my tender heart so deeply loves the people and places that have filled my world for the last seven years, and I find myself more affected than I thought I would be.

This is where I brought my babies home for the first time. This is where I watched them grow in their earliest, most precious and fleeting years. I know I’ll look around before we leave and see all the little moments that are contained in this space, and it will fill my soul with more than I can even imagine.

I wonder if someday our time here will all feel like a dream, but I know that even if it does, it has been one beautiful, moving, satisfying dream. Now it’s simply time to move on to the next one.