Have you had days that you just wanted to get through so you could get on with the next one?  What about months?  I’ve had all of the above and then some.  Prior to this past couple of years, my schedules were focused around regularly scheduled trips scattered throughout the year.  I was never without a trip of some sort in sight.  Some were HUGE like a month in Europe, some were small like a weekend in DC just three hours away, but nevertheless, my whole outlook in life revolved around those trips.  I lived for them, counted down and put on a full court press to get to them . . . and as soon as one was done I was counting down to the next.

Due to changes in circumstances with married life, kid life, work life, just life in general, my travels have essentially ceased and deceased.  And I’ve come to the point where I am really feeling it.  Prior to graduating from college, I had moved 18 times by my last count.  I am ‘rootless’ girl in every sense of the term.  Whenever someone would ask me “where’s home?” my smart aleck (yes, always a smart aleck) reply was “wherever my stereo is.”  And in alot of ways that is still true.  Granted, I have quite a bit more baggage now with kids, computers, scrapbooks, etc. but seriously, I could get up tomorrow and just go and be fine.

In a recent revelation, my mom told them they finally stopped moving us because I didn’t handle change well.  Whoa, it only took 4 states, lots of random placed summers and . . . to figure that out.  And by then, I think I was too “damaged” to put down roots and here I am 35 years old and still rootless. And with a serious case of wanderlust hitting . . .

So now I sit to plan for some trips this year, I’ve got to or well, I’m not sure what, but I have a terribly strong inner need to just go.  And I’ve begun to think about my kids . . .

Since we (the kids and I) have moved 4 times in the last 12 months due to a variety of circumstances, I worry that they will become “rootless” too.  In fact, they may have been born that way . . . gotten it from me genetically somehow.  Why do I say that you ask? Well, you know how kids seem to have that one thing they attach too.  The one thing that if it gets left behind, they are lost and cannot sleep and cannot rest and generally scream until it’s returned.  Well, neither of my kids had that.  In fact, the only thing either of them seem attached to is, well me.

With a pending divorce it seems, I have been randomly day dreaming about moving again . . . far, far away.  Texas comes to mind most often, but nothing is certain.  And then I come back to this rootless thing.  I want more for my kids.  I want them to have kids they have known since forever.  I want them to have that history with people.  I want them to feel like they have a “home” or hometown or something like that.  I want them to feel like they belong somewhere.

I don’t think I will ever have any of that.  My home will probably always be where my stereo is.  So how do I give my kids more than that, stuff that I don’t even know about and still satisfy this insatiable wanderlust inside of me.  That is the question and it has started to plague me . . . because I definitely feel urge to jump in the car and just go more and more often these days.

(Luckily, I’m too practical to throw away the wonderful life we have right now, but in just over a year when my lease is up on this place . . . well, all bets are off!)  In the meantime, we are going to go see real SNOW next month.  And then in July, hit the rivers in Texas and wherever we find along the way.  I’m back . . . with two exciting trips to look forward too.  And that will tide me over for now . . . I hope!