Home Again

We’re headed home now—a bit more tan than before, a lot more relaxed.  The kids eyes are heavy with the happy exhaustion of hours spent splashing in the pool and combing the beach for crabs and seashells.  I spent the first half of the plane ride downloading and labeling the five hundred photos I took and thinking about how to organize them into an album.  It was a good trip, a sweet week marked by far more giggles and smiles and games and adventures than meltdowns.

Coming home is always bittersweet.  It’s hard to leave paradise and unlimited time together and family we only get to see every few months (not to mention amazing food and gorgeous vistas and the sound of the ocean ‘round the clock).  A few days ago, Ben asked why we can’t live in Mexico--a good question indicative of the fun we’ve all had.  We agreed that it would be nice to stay before reminding him of our responsibilities to work and school and friends and home. 

“And we have to take care of Merlot,” he added seriously. 

As much as we’ve enjoyed our vacation, though, there’s comfort in returning to our own space and routines and daily life.  The night before we came home, Ben, who’s been staying up well past eight every night in order to enjoy time with his older cousin, asked when he could start going to bed at seven again.  Both kids are ready to get home for their weekend treat of chocolate milk.  And we’re all excited to see Merlot again, who has probably grown another ten pounds since we left.  Vacation is wonderful, but it’s also nice to know we’re returning to a place we love.  To the familiar and comfortable.  To responsibility and productivity.  Even if, at times, it feels crazy. 

It’s the break in routine that makes vacation so enjoyable—and helps us appreciate home, too.