One thing was certain at the end of our trip to Arkansas: I am not a Country Mom. While I loved the rural sprawl of the country, I'm not cut out for that type of living.
Having to drive 15 minutes to get to the grocery store? Not for me.
Having to wear OFF or other bug repellent just to sit in your own backyard? Not for me.
Having to mow eight acres of land every week? Even on one of the cool John Deere thingamabobs? Not for me.
We spent the Fourth of July at my Aunt's lake house on Lake Ouachita (I think that's how it's spelled). The whole time we were there I was grossed out to the core. Swimming in lake water? Yeah, its disgusting. It's even more disgusting when you know everyone has peed in the lake. And you know they've peed in the lake because they never get out of the damn lake all the while drinking beer after beer since noon. G to the R to O to the double S. Gross. I don't know how you people buy boats and go on lakes when really you are just swimming in a man-made toilet.
My Arkansas family got so sick of me saying "eww" or "yuck" or "I think I just got bit by something." At one point my cousin Michael, a country boy to the core, asked me "Don't you have any bugs in California?" To which I had to explain that in California I have to go looking for bugs. And no, in California I've never seen the sheer volume or size of the insects that I've seen in Arkansas. You might find pesty ants, annoying gnats, and persistent fruit flies. But I've never been one with nature just by being outside.
I've known for years that I'm not a City Mom either. I'm not cut out to lugging groceries three blocks because that was the nearest parking spot. I don't want to have to step over hobos to get to my front door.
So that leaves only choice. I am a Suburban Mom. I like my two-car garage. I like tending to my teeny backyard. I like my neighborhood grocery store to actually be in my neighborhood. I guess I'm too old for the city and not old enough for the country.
All I need now is a minivan.
