Before we were certain that we were pregnant with twins, while Savanna was talking about how she had the “feeling” that we were, I said something like: “Savanna, if we really do have twins- we are going to move into the house in Missouri to live with your mom and sister. Because we are going to need all of the help we can get.”

Of course, we laughed about it at the time, and then after the twins were confirmed we laughed about it again once or twice. We knew it wasn’t serious. Why in God’s name would we ever move from our private forest on twenty acres in the last American frontier, to a suburb of a city that contains over two million people? Why would we give up the peace and quiet, the northern lights and stars, the beach and mountains, the safe and secure oasis, the garden space and fruit orchard, the wild salmon and wild moose, the hardy people and kind neighbors, the small influence on our kids, the tightness of this community? Why would we even think about giving that up to live in a litter filled, murderous, loud, billboard lit, polluted, pop-culture obsessing, sports maniac haven place like Kansas City, Missouri?

We have come to learn that families in the old days stuck close together for more reasons than just comfort. They helped each other. And let me tell ya, even though Savanna is probably the most widely adapted, resilient, cheerful, selfless mother on the planet Earth; I am only a halfway decent father who still wants to pursue my selfish endeavors that don’t involve changing diapers, holding babies, playing dolls, painting fingernails, reading kids books, watching cartoons, wrestling, and more. I want to, and have to, work and make money.

And every time I leave the house, I leave four kids between 1 month and 4 years old, with their mother in an 830 square foot house out in the middle of nowhere by herself.

To cut to the chase, being around the kids’s grandma, my mother-in-law, sounds like a freaking Godsend. And after she recently injured herself at work and was laid up for weeks due to a herniated or ruptured disc, we want to be near her to help her in times of need and to spend time with her before she passes. Not saying she’s going to die anytime soon, but we never know how much time we have and we really want our kids to know their grandmother better than they do. With the kids having four aunts, eight cousins, a grandpa, two grandmas, and endless potential friends to play with- they would be in little-kid heaven down there!

Would we miss the one-on-one time? Sure. The tight family without much outside influence? Of course. The hours of togetherness everyday without any disturbances or social obligations? No doubt. But we would not move to Missouri, we would just visit for a six month stint and return to keep our residencies. We do not plan on selling our place- ever – and we plan to continue to work our land and to enjoy the fruits of our labor while leaving a legacy and a fruit farm for the kids in the future. (Did I mention the rainy, icy, awful weather this winter? I have spent three summers away from Alaska my entire life, two of the summers were in Iraq. So I am due for a hot summer!)

So, we are currently in the brainstorming phase of the idea, which as most of you know is quite common for our family. We are writing out the pros and cons of both places, coming up with six or so potential options, doing financial math, praying, researching, and talking. We are asking ourselves three questions. What do I want to do? What is the best thing for our kids? And what does God want us to do? We don’t have the answers yet. But no matter what happens, we will be together and we will be grateful.

If you have experience raising kids in a country or city setting, please reach out to us and let us know what you think. And please tell us all of the ways your family have helped, or harmed, you and your children.