My "Fall Break" is coming to an end.
In the next couple of days I will be trekking from my husband's house back to my own home and will fall back into the routine of being an UberMom and driving the kids around like crazy. Middle School, Elementary School, TK, Bus Stop, TK, Middle School, and groceries or errands in between.
Of course, there is also that pesky "figure out how to pay your mortgage without having a 9-5 job" to take care of.
Still, I am starting to think that I enjoy Sunday's better than I enjoy vacations. I can't decide if it's because there is something "wrong" with me, or if that means that there is something very "right."
My favorite type of "vacations" have always been staying at home and enjoying the town I live in, the space I have built, and the things that are around me without having to move around.
When I am on vacation, I have a pressure to "do stuff."
As if there is something wrong with hanging out at my Condo, swimming in the clear water, eating organic fruits and veggies, and watching lots of tv.
I have been in this city for almost two weeks, and I am feeling the pressure of "you didn't even" all around me.
You didn't go to all the parks
You didn't have that BBQ
You didn't go to that ice cream shop
You didn't stay off your computer
Perhaps one of these days I will figure out that "vacation" for me, is the ability to sit still, think, read (or binge on tv next to a sunny window) and going out for a slow walk or two.
Perhaps one of these days I will let myself pat myself on the back and realize that I love the life I have built and a vacation is just a simple break from responsibilities.
Or perhaps one of these days, I will hop on a plane, and go to a new city, and walk around and be a tourist, and eat what the locals eat.
With three kids and another making an appearance in 2020, that sounds more like a nightmare than a vacation.
And going without the kids?
Impossible.
My heart has a hard time being more than driving distance from my kids.
