When my husband and I got married in 2015, I moved from my suburban hometown in Delaware to Philadelphia. We loved the proximity to arts and culture events and museums, the access to public transportation, and the ability to walk to some of our favorite restaurants.
Living in a city also came with its negatives: noise and safety issues, as well as limited outdoor space. When we became parents, these issues became even more challenging. So, when we decided to move again four years ago, we made the choice not only to trade the city for the suburbs, but also to move back to my hometown.
I was conflicted at first about moving back to my hometown
After living in Philadelphia for over five years, I was concerned that moving back to my suburban hometown would feel like a step backward. Moving away from home to bigger and better things seems like a rite of passage during young adulthood. But the lockdowns and isolation of the pandemic took their toll.
The things that we had been struggling with about living in a city got worse, and I felt trapped at home with a toddler who couldn’t wear a mask. Longing for a feeling of normality and safety, moving back to an area that was familiar and comfortable felt like the best choice for our family. We ended up purchasing a house that was not far from my childhood home.
My daughter has blossomed in the suburbs with more outdoor space
Over the past four years, we’ve taken numerous walks, tricycle rides, and scooter rides around our neighborhood. In the fall, we watch all the leaves change from green to gold and rust. In spring, my daughter puddle-hops along the streets, and in winter, she builds snowmen in the front yard, just like I did as a child. We’ve planted our own garden, growing tomatoes and strawberries, and have been slightly more successful than my siblings and I were.
Late last spring, my dad and husband worked together to construct a swing set in our backyard, while my daughter raced around, delivering screws and holding brackets. Years ago, my grandfather and dad also built a swing set in the backyard of my childhood home that my siblings and I used into our teenage years.
In our outdoor space, we have been able to enjoy a lot of the special memories I have from growing up: running through the sprinkler on hot summer days, kicking soccer balls around the yard, and watching the bunnies and cardinals that make our yard our home.
Courtesy of Sara Rowe Mount
I’ve also enjoyed sharing the places I enjoyed as a child with my daughter
Our local nature and science museum has become one of my daughter’s favorite places. While a lot has changed over the years, I still get to see her wonder at the same giant clam shell and stuffed animal specimens that I did and pretend to swim over the underfloor coral reef that I was always too scared to walk over.
Last year, she took another plunge into the past when she became the third generation to take swim lessons at a local pool. Ironically, it looks pretty much the same, but thankfully, neither my daughter nor I had to use loaner wool bathing suits like my mom did.
When we were in Philadelphia, we had access to a bigger zoo, multiple art museums, and a huge variety of restaurants. But our small state’s little zoo, museums, and state parks have turned out to be perfect for my daughter because they aren’t overwhelming or overstimulating. And rather than feeling trite, sharing things I did as a child and places I loved with my daughter has felt a bit magical.
