Is there something about getting older that automatically makes you more sentimental? more nostalgic? let’s face it, mushier (physically and mentally, most likely)? The older I get (and I’m not old at all really), the more sentimental I’ve become. Not so much about things, but about people. It’s harder and harder to leave friends when we move and I find myself wanting to look people up whom I haven’t talked to in years! The good thing about it is that I can completely empathize with the kids when they whine about missing their friends. This is good because, as Bryan likes to point out, I’m not generally good at the whole empathy thing. I believe in my heart that this is where God wants us to be right now, but it doesn’t change the fact that I miss people and, therefore, I can’t simply give my kids the standard ‘suck it up’ talk either. The Girl’s having a tougher time than I expected, but I do think they she and Boy Genius will both settle in quite well once they’ve had a chance to make good friends. Then the problem will be, how long until the next move? Last night, Bryan said “you know, we could stay here awhile, maybe even through the kids’ high school years; what d’ya think about that?” Now I know what it means when I read “my heart leapt.” Staying awhile would be good, for the kids, of course, and for their mushy momma.