I got a great lesson in perspective from my four-year-old daugter, Lila, the other afternoon.

We're sitting out by the banana tree — I love saying that. Anyway, we're in our zen little garden having a picnic by the banana tree in the September warm and sunshine, daisies along the garage and the fountain is trickling.

First afternoon at the new house. We're like a freaking Norman Rockwell, and you'd think this almost four-year-old would be out-of-her-mind to have just one home with her parents together in it and no more back and forth between houses.

We're eating PB&J in a sunny spot, her hands all strawberry jelly sticky.

"Mom," she says. "Next time we move can we go back to our old houses?"

"Houses?" I say. "You want back to two places?"

She sucks jelly from her forefinger.

"I liked having two houses," she says. "Why can't we have two houses anymore?"

When I left, she was 23 months old, and we had the reverse conversation. A day or two into the apartment she looked up from snapping Legos and said "I want to go home, mommy. I want to go home."

I was sure I'd ruined her life.

I take a bite of sandwich, swallow down my water and consider how to explain.

And I'm thinking, really? Is my four-year-old really asking me to justify moving back in together, to explain why we must do the very thing I'm positive all kids want above all else?

Of course she is.

She has no memory of us living all together. This is a huge change and I don't mean to sound flip or disrespect the gravity of splitting with young kids, but for Lila — for kids so young — the change itself is the hardest part.

Change is change is change is change. After the transition, then it's just normal.

It's us grown-ups who attach everything else to it. Sam and I stayed friends through all but a couple months of our two-year, almost-divorce. And even in those months we remained civil.

What I realize is, after the initial shock of transition, living in two houses wasn't positive or negative for Lila and Roxie. It just was.

I lie back on the lawn and explain why we can't have two houses anymore and my explanation feels like we are picnicking in the Twilight Zone.

"You know how some kids only have one house and their whole family lives together in it all the time?" I say. "Like Sarah and Alex have one house, and Colin and Rohan, and lots of kids we know have one house?" I say. "Well, Daddy and I decided it's the best thing for our family to only have one house now."

"Mom," she says. "I like peanut butter and jelly better with just jelly and bread. You can have my peanut butter."