Vacations are funny. You spend days or even weeks counting down and anxiously looking forward to your getaway, but coming home and reuniting with routine is equally appealing by the time it’s all said and done. Sitting on the tarmac at Tampa, I was struck by the longing I felt for home and all the habits and routine that rule our lives.
Our first “real” family vacation wasn’t without upset. Our flight was diverted due to weather, delaying our arrival in Tampa by several hours. We all got overtired and snippy and F had more than a couple of temper tantrums, but all in all it was a success.
Travel is always tiring. No matter how peaceful the lodgings or comfortable the bed, it’s not mine and I struggle to fall asleep. Then there’s the rushing around, the eating out, the hurried meals and fast food snacks and my body doesn’t seem to know what hit it. Coming home was almost a relief – lying in my own bed at 2 am was the best sensation I’ve ever felt.
A week into life as usual, it feels like we’re finally back to “zero”: our sleep is (mostly) recovered, the mundane tasks of daily life resumed and mind-numbing, and the stress of work has resumed its usual 110%.
And now, we plan the next one.