“Home is not where you live, but where they understand you.”
~ Christian Morganstern
“Home is a name, a word. It is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.”
~ Charles Dickens
“There is a magic in that little world – home. It is a mystic circle that surrounds comforts and virtues never known beyond its hallowed limits.”
~ Robert Southey
“Nor need we power or splendour, wide hall or lordly dome; the good, the true the tender, these form the wealth of home.
~ Sarah Hale
“We have to get the baby animals home to their Mommies. Will you help us?”
~ Dora the Explorer
Luau’s laptop is perched across my legs. I slowly scan through old posts, methodically changing names. I’m bleary-eyed; but I’m making progress. I’ve finally crossed the threshold into 2010.
Brooke is snuggled into the crook of my arm watching Dora the Explorer on TV. Dora and her cousin Diego are taking various baby animals home to their mothers.
“Do you see the baby elephant’s Mommy?” Dora asks.
Brooke suddenly stands up and turns to face me.
“Can you ask me where your home is?”
We constantly work to reshape these kinds of interactions. The kind that start with, “Can you ask me ..” or, “Could you say ..”
But I’m tired. I play along.
“Sure, baby. Where is your home?”
She looks dismayed. Something obviously isn’t right.
“No, could you ask me where YOUR home is?”
Brooke’s pronouns were confused for a long, long time. Now it seems that her Mama is confused by the very LACK of confusion. Poor kid. No wonder she gets frustrated.
“Oh, OK, honey. Where is MY home?”
With a flourish, she jumps up and curls her entire little body into my lap. The computer goes tumbling. I reach for it with my one free hand and barely manage to push it onto the coffee table in front of us.
Brooke nuzzles in. Her left hand reaches for the back of my neck and the right settles on my chest, resting on top of my heart. Her head is buried in my shoulder. She is silent.
I’m lost. I feel like I missed a memo.
“Brooke, honey? Where’s my home?”
Very quietly, she answers.
I rest my head on top of hers.
Dora, Diego and Boots are singing.
“Lo hicimos! We did it!”
And my baby girl is absolutely right.