Journey to the Rhodes End

Let me pour myself a fresh drink here. That's better. You've heard this before. You've read it in the blog posts all your mom friends pass around on Facebook. You've seen it in comments to moms who are overwhelmed and venting in a safe space so they don't list their kids on eBay. Maybe you've even said it. The horror. "Savor every moment." "They're only this little once." "You're gonna miss this." Yesterday, we powerwashed, dried, and boxed up Evan's booster seat. No more buckles around dining room chairs. (No more straightjacketing him to his seat.) My heart played that country song I hate... You're gonna miss this, you're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast... No. Shut up. I do get the momentary pangs when packing up outgrown clothes and boxing up infant toys (the Jumperoo made me tear up a little), but here's what I hate about these sayings,...

The "Rhodes End" started off as a school project of David's, a name for a fictional restaurant. Over the years, it's become more of a tangible goal. An endgame for our family. We have big dreams of owning a farm with lots of land, and animals for food, companionship, and wool. Or maybe we'll sell everything we own and build a tiny house off the grid somewhere. Or maybe we'll live out of a camper and travel. The end goal is still a work in progress, as I imagine most end goals are. And it's still a long way off. We're currently homeowners outside Pittsburgh, with "technically" three acres, but most is wooded cliffs backed up to the interstate. Two insane kids and five insane animals keep us on our toes. The house needs a lot of work before we can sell it (finishing projects started years ago /cough ) and David's job is close by. The neighbors are awesome, and we love Kelsey's preschool, which Evan will attend in another year. So...