I dropped my husband off at the airport today for a trip to Connecticut, near where we used to live when we first got married (A side note: Katherine Hepburn, my idol, used to spend time in this town!). That was a little hard 1) because naturally I will miss him and 2) because although Connecticut was years ago (and two lifetimes, too… my daughters lifetime’s…) I still sometimes fantasize about raising my girls there in New England. It’s the Norman Rockwell image I have stuck in my head, you know? Snowy Main Streets with friendly neighbors and roaring fires. And that was pretty close to a description of the sweet little town we lived in, well at least the parts about Main Street and roaring fires. Friendly neighbors, there were not. But I don’t care – it’s my romanticized version of life in rural Connecticut and I kind of miss it. We had a beautiful white clapboard colonial at the end of a dead-end street with lots of trees and a swimming pool and stone fences surrounding the land. Oh my gosh am I missing it right now.

Although I know what my husband will say when he sees this post – you are suffering from “yard envy.” And he’s onto something. When we bought our adorable little cottage here in Fort Worth with the postage stamp backyard, it was a non-issue. Our first daughter was barely 8 months old, and we couldn’t imagine a day she would be playing in the yard. Fast-forward about four months, and we found ourselves blessed with a little girl who literally would spend ALL DAY outside if we’d let her. And really, I would, if we had a yard that she didn’t also have to share wih two large dogs, one of whom is regular to the tune of about 4 or 5 monster poops a day. Not a safe place for a little girl to romp around. Particularly after I found out that when she DID get poop on her cute little pink crocs, my awesome husband would not-so-awesomely throw them in the dishwasher to get clean. THE DISHWASHER! So, alas, now that springtime is here and my Sweet Pea wants to spend all day in the yard coloring with sidewalk chalk and blowing bubbles, I find myself dreaming of land… lots and lots of land. The grass is always greener…