I've always been one to make a decision, and then jump on it. Like the week after I graduated High School and decided on Sunday that I wanted to move out, and by Tuesday had moved into my own place. Or when Jason and I decided to get married a couple days before Thanksgiving, and by New Year's were already on our honeymoon.
Once a decision has been made, the waiting becomes pure torture for me.
And that's where I'm finding myself this week. We made the decision to move back to the states, the plane tickets are bought, but now I just have to wait. It's not that I'm anxious to leave England, because truth-be-told, I absolutely love this country. I'm just anxious to start the new phase - the phase that will hopefully lead to a job, and eventually settling down somewhere.
I'm anxious for my girls to have a yard to play in, walls to decorate, and toys that are worth keeping. I'm anxious to have to walk outside to get the mail, to live on a quiet street without fear of a double decker bus running over one of my girls, and a king size bed that is big enough to really stretch out on. I'm anxious for hot summer nights, and fireworks, and picnics at the park with cousins.
Luckily, I get to spend everyday of the waiting with these cuties who have no concept of time.
They take each day, and in fact, each moment, as it comes.