My daughter doesn't seem to like the concept of suburban life. She likes our neighborhood, but like her Mom she likes having an identifier to go along with her residence. We live in the country, along a beach, but we also live in a neighborhood. Horses and riders, rabbits, raccoons and deer are all familar sites; we've even had a pair of random escaped bulls come through. But it still looks like suburbia when you're standing in the driveway during the day.
Today we had a cord of wood delivered. It turned into a fun cooperative family effort, as the kids and parents all donned our working gloves and staked the load in the wood crib. When most of the cord was put in, D woke up from his nap, so I went in to get him. He stared while the "big kids" were working right alongside with Daddy. He looked at me and said "N strong! G strong!"
D and I went inside and made a round of hot chocolate, which the big kids sat and sipped while watching P-Daddy split some of the bigger pieces. G looked up at me with shining eyes and said "Mommy, I feel like I am not in a neighborhood!"