I've always said that it takes at least three months to go from the "OMG what have I got myself into" stage to the "I think I've got this" stage. Give it three months to "gel". At least, that is the advice I've always given to new hires at work. In the 16 years I've been at my job, I've seen this happen time and time again.
Of course it can take a little bit longer when moving to a new place, but I think in our case… we weren't really moving to a new place. We just stopped going back home. We are a few days short of that three month mark since moving aboard Dos Libras. Last night, while watching a movie after dinner… I had my first real "at home" thought. It was just so subtle and effortless but it jarred my senses. Suddenly, I knew that we are home.
I no longer think of our townhouse as home and when I say, "lets go home" I mean to the boat. Today we went our daughter's house (our townhouse) to work on organizing some things for a garage sale we're having next weekend. She has made it her own in subtle ways and as I walked through the downstairs, I didn't feel "familiar". Maybe that's the wrong word, but I can't think of another.
My daughter and I went shopping for living room furniture. She picked out a nice set and bought it for herself without my help… other than the help I gave her in moving the right coffee table to see if it matched the couches! I felt pride that she was doing this on her own and making a home.
We left the townhouse and drove back to the boat. I know you've all felt that warm and fuzzy feeling upon returning home… that's how I felt. My ducks were there waiting to be fed… Jezabelle had her nose pressed against the companionway door. We fed the ducks and settled into the cockpit to discuss the day's events. I feel content. I'm HOME...