Going home?

We have been getting ready for our annual trip to the US. As I have been talking to friends here, I keep saying, "we go home _______." , "when we go home, _______". But the other day I got to thinking. . . where is home? Because by the end of the summer, I am again telling people, "we go home ______." Is our home the US? Of course. This is especially true for Andy, Becca, Josh, and I. B in particular has distinct memories of living in the US. But we sometimes wonder what our youngest actually remembers of living in the US. And even if we moved to another country tomorrow (not that we are planning on that, I'm just saying), the US would still be home and claim a piece of our hearts. But then, is China our home? Definitely, we have a house here, a life here. But does one trump the other? And that, I think, is a truly hard question. This is illustrated as we fill out forms. Just yesterday Andy was trying to pay with Paypal, but because our phone number wasn't located in the same postal code as our address, it freaked out and refused the transaction. We claim an old Indy phone number (cause really, who wants or will honestly call a China #?), with a Seattle address, but actually are in neither of these places. From the outside, it sounds like we are a little confused. Or you can see the evidence in talking with Tori as she jumps from Chinese and English with ease. I think one of our great lessons is to find home no matter where our family is. Because what really defines home? A place? Last summer when we returned to China, I got off the plane in Shanghai, breathed in the thick, humid air with that distinct China smell, and I felt like I was home. Or in the US as I hear our kids laughing and playing with friends they have known their whole lives, I am home.