We have returned from vacation – although I wouldn’t really call it a vacation. Family visits are never a vacation and being without the Mister is never restful – especially when I am pretty much the sole charge of two busy little girls. This isn’t to say we didn’t have some good times and that it wasn’t wonderful for us to spend time with my parents – but we are all homebodies and are very happy to be home. To be honest I am quite exhausted right now and spent most of the time dreaming about being away somewhere by myself.
(Fionnuala actually says “Yay home!” every time we pull into the garage, advice no matter where we have been.)
It seems almost wrong to admit that you don’t care for traveling in this day and age when it is easy enough to go anywhere and it seems as though every one we know does. All I hear is talk about where people have been, drugs where they are going and where they want to go next.
But I will say it: I don’t really like traveling.
Sometimes I like the idea of traveling but mostly I just want to stay home. The exception to the rule was the trip the Mister & I took to Ireland years ago (and even after three weeks I was ready to come home) and someday in the future we will go back there with the girls (and rent a cottage and not move around too much) but I think of that as less traveling and more temporarily transplanting ourselves to somewhere we enjoy the climate, the music and the tea.
Being without the Mister, for me, is also like being short of breath. That sounds a little heavy but in truth things just aren’t right when we are not together. The girls could feel it too. Fionnuala kept asking to come home. Moira was kind-of a mess (that’s putting it mildly).
Also, southern Ontario in the summer is too hot for this mountain-climate Mama and her Alberta babies.
However, I would be lying if I said we didn’t enjoy the beach.