Born In a Small Town…

If you ask my boys what they did this summer, they’ll probably give you the highlight reel.

“We spent most of the summer in Indiana… oh yeah, and we’re moving to Korea.”

Priorities.

They’ll tell you about staying with Grandma and Grandpa. Cousin sleepovers that involved very little actual sleeping. Ice cream runs that somehow became a daily food group. Fireworks that made bedtime merely a suggestion. And enough laughs with aunts, uncles, and cousins to last them until next summer.

But what they probably won’t realize is that they weren’t just having fun.

They were living the childhood I was lucky enough to grow up with.

The kind where your grandparents’ house feels like a second home. Where your cousins are your first best friends. Where everyone knows everyone, and somehow someone always has popsicles.

They learned that “running errands” in a small town actually means stopping to talk to half the people you know.

They discovered that antique shopping isn’t really about antiques. It’s about wandering old stores pointing at things you’ve never seen before while Grandpa says, “We used to have one of those!”

They figured out that yard sales are basically treasure hunts where one person’s junk magically becomes someone else’s greatest find. (And somehow those “treasures” also had to find room in our shipping container headed to Korea.) I’m still not convinced they needed another toy, but that’s a battle for another day.

There were multiple birthday celebrations for Beckett and Sam (one of the many perks of being birthday twins), family dinners, late nights riding scooters and watching TV, countless games of wiffle ball, pool parties, and memories made from simply being together.

And, of course… ice cream.

So.

Much.

Ice cream.

Watching them experience the simple joys of a Midwest summer has been one of my favorite parts of this crazy summer.

As we pack up our home, say goodbye to Texas, and move halfway around the world, it brings me so much comfort knowing they got one more unforgettable summer surrounded by the people who love them most.

Beckett even discovered he has a family name. He is now fully convinced an entire subdivision was named after him.

Bless his heart.

Because while they’ll remember the fireworks and the ice cream, I hope they’ll also remember the feeling.

The feeling of belonging with the people who love you the most.

Those are the summers that stay with you.

They certainly stayed with me.

And now my boys have one of their own.

Cue the John Mellencamp soundtrack.

They are half Hoosiers, after all.