home again, home again, jiggety-jig

The Monkey Family spent the last week in Florida’s panhandle, visiting with family and recharging our batteries.  The Boy and The Girl spent several days with their grandparents, and The Daddy Monkey and I had our first ever kid-free getaway, in seven years of parenting.  It was pretty nice.  The photo from Friday’s this moment is a photo from beautiful Wakulla Springs, where we stayed.  While I would love to say that it changed my life, it did not.  It was lovely, and relaxing, and we had a fine time.  Except for being booked in a room directly next door to a loud family with lots of kids.  Oh the irony.  We switched rooms, and all was well.

I would like to say that we slept in very late, ate room service, and forgot about our children.  But the truth is that we woke early due to the thin walls of our old hotel, and that there wasn’t even room service offered.  And while I can say that I didn’t exactly miss my children, I did think of them a few times, even though I knew they were having the time of their lives being spoiled by their grandparents.

But–I can say that we enjoyed a little breathing space.  A little time in which we didn’t have to referee fights, wipe behinds, make fifty thousand snacks, and make sure everyone’s hands were washed.  We enjoyed the quiet of nature, took a wee hike and a peaceful boat ride, and enjoyed several fantastic picnics under the enormous pine trees.  The enormous wheel of brie we bought turned out to be a good investment, and the weather at the park was just cool enough to be able to sit outside. We enjoyed the song of dozens of cicadas, took the scenic route, and had fun playing tourist in a place where boiled peanuts are considered a delicacy.

The best part of a vacation?  Coming home.  Home to your own bed, where you know the sounds and smells by heart, and you can go to your own kitchen and make yourself a cup of tea whenever you like, instead of having to search the GPS for a Starbucks that is 20 miles away.  Where you know where you are going when you get in your car, and you can drive to the local organic farmer’s market and happily buy fresh, beautiful produce (even if it did cost $45).

Even though having a break from the children for a few days was nice, it wasn’t the earth-shattering experience I had expected it to be.  The effect was much more subtle.  I came home gladly.  To the home I have created for my family.  Whereas before we left, I found myself in a serious funk about motherhood and homeschooling, I came home and remembered why I’m doing this. Why I choose to live with such intention.  Feeling refreshed and ready for a new school year.  Looking forward to autumn and the cooler temperatures, a fall garden, and second grade.

It’s good to be home.