As many of you know, I am a fan of the podcast The Mom Hour.  I love tuning into hosts Sarah and Meagan’s conversations about raising a family in these crazy times.  The show covers everything from school issues, to clothing and gear recommendations for all ages, to feeding a family, to listener Q&As and reassurance for moms in every stage of life.  The hosts are funny, refreshingly real, and gently validating; I’d love nothing more than to grab a cup of tea with them and let them set my parenting world to rights.

Over the summer, they ran a massive two-part episode about moving – covering the entire process from dreaming up a move to nailing all the logistical details to make it happen.  The episode was prompted because Sarah, one of the hosts, recently moved back to her hometown of Santa Barbara, CA (where I have family as well – so I’m always interested when she talks about the town).  Meagan had also moved recently, so they both had a lot of thoughts.  And one of the questions they posed to listeners was: do you dream about moving, and if so, where?

As you all know, I’ve moved a time or two in the last several years.  I could probably count the number of houses and apartments that Steve and I have occupied since we’ve been together, but not off the top of my head; I’d have to think about it.  Most recently, we moved from Alexandria – a town we love – to the exurbs, largely for the public schools.  I love living in Virginia, I am content in our area, and I don’t have any real desire to move to another geographic location.  I do fantasize regularly about buying a house in our current town – maybe a short sale or foreclosure that needs some love, and fixing it up to be exactly what I want.  That’s a realistic dream and we’re working towards it, saving as much as we can towards a down payment and planning out a long-term future of owning a home in the same school pyramid.

But while I have no plans to leave Virginia, and no real desire to do so, everyone has crazy fantasies of living somewhere else entirely.  I’m no different, and I regularly entertain visions of pulling up stakes entirely and rolling on to some completely new adventure.  For instance:

• ColoRADo.  Back when we were planning our move away from Buffalo, we had two serious location contenders: northern Virginia (where we ended up) and Denver.  We were actively sending resumes to both D.C. and Denver, and planned to move to the first job opportunity that came along.  D.C. was enticing for obvious reasons – we knew and loved the area, and we still had a large community of friends and friendly acquaintances here.  The main benefit to Denver, aside from the outdoor adventure possibilities, was the prospect of living near my brother and his wife, who were – at the time – living in the Boulder area.  I’m glad now that Denver ended up not working out, because Dan and Danielle have since moved to western Colorado (near Utah) so if we were in Denver we wouldn’t really be local to them anymore.  We’d still be closer than we are – a four hour drive instead of an airplane ride – but not in the same metro area.  (Although in recent years I have had three different friends move to the greater Denver area, so it’s not like we would have been completely stranded and without connection.)
• The Other Washington.  Another location we’ve actually considered – Seattle.  Again when we were planning our move out of the Buffalo area, I was contacted out of the blue with an interview request for a job out that way.  At that point I hadn’t really considered moving to the west coast at all.  I took the interview and it was interesting, but ultimately not a good fit.  I had mentioned to Steve that I could see us enjoying a life in the PNW – again, we have a few friends out in Seattle – and he said he thought I’d hate the weather.  It’s true that I am not big on rain; I get chronic headaches and changes in barometric pressure seem to exacerbate them.  Layman’s terms: my head hurts when it’s wet outside.  But when we vacationed in the San Juan Islands and Seattle last summer, Steve and I both agreed that we could totally live here.  As we sat sipping local brews at the Friday Harbor Beer House, enjoying the smell of the salty air and no humidity, Steve looked around and said “Remind me again why we don’t live here?”
• We Love New York?  I have no desire to move back to Buffalo – for many reasons, I was deeply unhappy there.  And I don’t really have any desire to live in New York at all.  But if I ever did, I’d move near my family – near Albany and Saratoga, at the eastern end of the state, a short drive from Vermont and the Adirondacks.  Growing up there, I didn’t appreciate the natural beauty, quaint towns, and cool independent businesses all around me; I certainly would now.  And the idea of jumping in the car for a short drive to paddle Lake Placid, hike in the high peaks, relax on the beach at my parents’ camp, or leaf-peep and wander picturesque villages in Vermont and Massachusetts (covered bridges! maple syrup!) is certainly attractive.  But then I remember the blistering, biting cold of January in upstate New York.  As I told my aunt recently (in response to her suggestion that I should probably just move on home RIGHT NOW), every summer I think, “It’s so beautiful here, maybe I should move back,” and then every winter I think, “NOPE.”
• O Canada.  Back in 2015, during the Presidential primary season, I was fond of jokingly suggesting that if Trump won, I was moving to Canada.  (That was in those innocent days when we all thought he’d never make it through the primary, let alone actually end up in the White House.)  At the time, that would actually have been very doable.  We were living in Buffalo, not far from the Canadian border.  I had several co-workers who lived in Ontario and commuted over the border every day.  Setting aside the logistics of immigration, we could have moved less than an hour away from our home at the time, kept our jobs, and had a lovely life in the Niagara area.  Obviously, that didn’t happen.  But I recently floated the idea again, telling Steve (not jokingly): “If Biden doesn’t win, we should seriously consider Canada.”  His response: “I’m not saying no.”  So, where in Canada would we go in this fantasy?  Well, I’ve always dreamed of living on Prince Edward Island, like Anne Shirley.  Or there’s Halifax, which I visited with my grandparents many years ago, and loved.  Or – my brother and I have discussed living that PNW life and moving our respective families to Vancouver.  (I know it’s expensive to live there, and I know it’s easier said than done to emigrate to Canada.  Don’t @ me.)
• Americans abroad!  Definitely not going to happen these days, since every sane country has banned us.  But who hasn’t fantasized about living overseas?  When Steve and I were first married, we were friends with an older couple in our condo building (they ended up moving to Washington; see above) who had a cottage in the Cotswolds where they spent several months of the year.  Can you say “hashtag goals”?  I mean, really.  Can’t you just see me bicycling around the Cotswolds, or Yorkshire?  I’d have a blue cruiser with a woven basket and I’d always carry a bouquet of flowers, a thermos of tea, and a Jane Austen novel in it.  Oh, I have it all planned out.  And because I tend to be a practical fantasizer (<-that’s a word) my pipe dreams of living in England are often followed by unproductive thoughts such as “hey, my firm has a London office.”

None of these are going to happen.  Or, at least – if they do, I’ll be as surprised as anyone.  I’m really content where I live now (I mean, I hate my house, but I like my town; if we were to buy a little house surrounded by some big trees and settle in, I’d be perfectly happy).  But it’s fun to consider, and to picture myself living somewhere totally different.

Do you fantasize about moving?  Where to?