Home is where your husband is

Home is where your husband is

Christopher and I are a little bit homeless right now. Just a little.

We got things squared away pretty quickly when we got back to Utah. The first day we were back, we bought a car. The next day we did some apartment hunting and found our apartment (we just can’t move in until April 27). The third day Chris secured a job. Just like that. Bam, Bam, Bam.

Now that Chris has been working, I’ve been…um sitting I guess. I’ve been doing a lot of research on baby stuff so that’s been keeping me busy but to be quite honest, I just miss my husband most of the time.

We are so lucky to have awesome friends who are letting us live with them until our apartment is available. How cool is that?! But it’s just a little frustrating to not be able to unpack or set up anything before school starts. We’ll be in our apartment for four days before I start classes. Hrmph.

The worst part about this whole arrangement is not that I just sit around all day, it’s not that I can’t set up my apartment yet. It’s not even that we’re pretty much broke. The worst part is that I miss my husband so gosh darn much!

In Hawaii we were with each other 24/7, quite literally. We lived in a bedroom, so even when we were apart, there wasn’t far for us to go. We worked at the same place, the same hours and we were (and still are) each other’s best friends so we hung out together just for fun. So my little pregnant brain just can’t comprehend why Christopher isn’t close enough that I can see him all the time. This whole going to work thing is so lame.

The silly thing is, when I call Chris during the day to find out when I get to see him again I ask, “When will you be home?” or “Are you on your way home yet?” But that’s the kicker, we don’t really have a home! But then, I realized why that phrase comes out of my mouth so naturally.

It doesn’t matter where we are staying or living or sitting at that moment, Christopher and I are each other’s home. My home is wherever he is. Home is where you are loved, where you are safe, where you feel comfortable, where you can be yourself. For me, that is wherever Christopher is. He is my home.

So when I ask, “When are you coming home?” What I’m really asking is, “When will you be with me again cause I miss you dangit!”

I don’t know when we’ll ever settle down. I hope we never really settle anywhere. I have what is referred to as wanderlust. But I know one thing for sure. I will never be homeless…not really. Because home is where your husband is.