"Mommy, I wanna go home." Ian walked in from our living room where he was snuggled up watching Netflix after dinner to tell us that. He's been saying that a lot lately. He says it in the car when we're heading home. He will say it when we're halfway through a wagon ride with the dogs. He'll say it as he's finishing dinner. I'm realizing it's less about being at this particular address than it is being somewhere you feel comfortable and safe and ready to relax.

So when he says things like this now, I ask him if he's tired. I ask him if he wants to snuggle. I ask him if he wants to share a blanket. Those things seem to mean home to him.

This weekend we went to Crown Tourney but also spent the weekend with our dear friends. Our son disappeared into the basement for hours playing a variety of games with the other two boys. We sat in the floor having three separate conversations all on top of each other while the hockey game was on and Mr. Smith and I noodled over his MacBook. We left in time to go to bed only to wake up Sunday morning to bring breakfast back for everyone to share. We complimented each other, teased each other, encouraged each other, and sympathized with each other.

So while we were three and a half hours from our place of residency, I know exactly what Ian means about going home.

*Kevin is conspicuously absent from this photo only because he had to go to a church meeting before we realized we needed a group photo. We will photoshop him in or give him his own photo spread when next we all gather.