It's no secret that I feel ambivalent about where I live. Whenever Rob and I travel, I BEG him to please let us move there. PLEASE. And I have promised all sorts of good behavior and endless sexual favors if he will PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE let us live in New York. Just for a few years. PLEASE. But dude ain't budging. In fact, if I told him that I were moving to Manhattan and he could follow or not, I think he'd bid me a fond farewell. Fucker.

But honestly, were he actually to agree to move, it would put me in a complete tailspin. Because the thought of leaving this place makes me seize inside. Because our families are here. Having my family as part of my daily life is hugely important to me. I love that I can workout with my mom. I love that I can borrow tools (and expertise) from my dad. I love that I can have my brother over for movie nights. I love that we often drop in on Rob's parents, just to chat. (And I love that if we ever do have kids, we will have a seriously sweet childcare situation.) And of course there are our friends as well. Few of them live in Redneck Valley, but nearly all of them are just a 2-hour drive away.

Still, sometimes I resent living here. I wish for the adventure and romance of starting a life somewhere else. I assume that, because I grew up here, this place is confining, that it won't allow me to grow further. And just recently I realized that the reason I feel this way is because I'm still viewing this place through a child's eyes.

Living in a place you know as well as an intimate friend, you tend to take a lot for granted. You tend to go to the same places you've always gone and do the same things you've always done. When the Redneck Valley Target opened in October, it occurred to me that this town (yeah okay, it's a small city) is growing up right in front of me and it's my own damn fault if I'm not taking advantage of what it has to offer. At the same time, I realized that maybe I could be content to live my entire life in this place. (Target has that effect on a girl.)

So in the past few months I have been making the transition to viewing my surroundings with adult eyes. Turns out there's a lot I love about this place.

There's the mechanic we go to because both of our fathers have trusted him for years. The first time we walked in there together he took a moment to get the situation sorted out in his head..."So you're D's son? You're the Escort, right? And your dad is P, and you've got the Civic. And now you're married...Well, how about that?" And he sort of shook his head and smiled to himself, and I couldn't help but think he seemed pleased that the Escort and Civic had fallen in love.

There's the little Italian restaurant one mile from our house that has an ambiance so terrible it's laughable, but the food is great and the prices are so good we've vowed to become regulars.

There's our veterinary clinic with staff members who know me and my furry family well, who tell me my babies are beautiful and who understand that I need to be spoken to in a soothing voice just as much as, if not more than, the cats.

There's the flower shop owned by Carla, a good friend of a friend. She did our wedding and she has a degree in art which means her flowers are fabulous and don't scream FUNERAL HOME even if that's where they're headed.

There's the free indoor track I just discovered a year ago that's only a hop, skip, and a jump from my house, where I often stop after work to decompress.

There's my gynecologist who is the best doctor I've ever met, who sincerely gives a shit about my sex life, who doesn't assume I want children and insists I have PLENTY OF TIME to decide, who, when I found a lump in my breast in college, insisted on a second ultrasound even though the first barrage of tests had come back fine because "your mother sounded worried on the phone."

There's the yarn shop that opened up a few months after I started my first scarf, that offers lessons and welcomes knitters to come and sit and knit.

And now there's the yoga studio. I'd been telling Rob for at least a year that I was going to open one myself, even pointed out a Space For Lease downtown that I thought would be perfect for it. And just this week one opened, in that very space no less. And yesterday I went and got my downward dog groove on and it was good.

This place is finally starting to feel like home.