Near and Far

Last week, my husband and I went on our annual vacation with some very good friends. We three couples flew to Newport, Rhode Island, for a little east coast getaway. Last year, we went to a resort in Mexico. The year before that, wine tastings in Napa Valley. We try to vary our themes and locations, while not straying too far from our children left behind. We are all very involved with our children, so the point of these trips is to enjoy the company of our adult friends while savoring some experiences that our children would not enjoy (or that would not be appropriate, in the case of the wine trip). Meanwhile, the kids are all off having adventures of their own, whether at camps or with grandparents.

I don't know if this is just me, or if the majority of travelers feel this way, but the excitement I feel when embarking on a new trip is equal to the relief I feel when arriving back home. I can't imagine staying put all the time, not seeing new places, having new experiences. Not that I've been everywhere, seen everything. Not by a long-shot. But we do try to get away three or four times per year, if not more. I look forward to each and every one of these trips, and I enjoy that feeling of anticipation as the departure date draws near.

However, within two days of our return trip, I start feeling a new anticipation: eagerness for home. Perhaps it's because, as an introvert, I feel energized by alone time. As an organized person, I feel comfort in routine. I love having quiet family nights, even if we're all just watching America's Funniest Home Videos together with a bowl of popcorn. Enjoying a home-cooked meal instead of eating out. Sleeping in my own bed. Sometimes, just 24 hours is all I need to completely recharge after a busy period, to be ready for the next event.

My husband feels the same way. Although we enjoy going out with each other and with friends, running the kids around to their activities with their friends, and generally keeping an active lifestyle, we place a very high value on time at home. Every few months, we schedule a weekend in which we decline all invitations and postpone scheduled events so we can just hang out with each other as a family.

Alas, sometimes life just gets hectic and we have to roll with it. My husband and I returned from our trip at midnight on Thursday. At 4:00 a.m. today, Saturday, he and my son left for their annual fishing trip with the guys. That left 28 hours to transition from one trip to the next, with the requisite tasks of doing laundry, stocking up on groceries, unpacking and then packing again, checking in at the office, attending to urgent issues, and purchasing last-minute necessities. Oh, and celebrating my father's birthday, too!

Just 28 hours of craziness. Now I'm home with my two girls and the dog, a relatively easy scenario for me. The girls are off playing while I sit on the back porch with a breeze blowing through the open windows, the birds singing in the trees around me, and the dog sleeping beside me. I can practically feel my engine recharging as I sit. And though my husband is on the road again, he'll get a bit of a recharge as a passenger on the long drive. Once they arrive at their site, he'll enjoy the peaceful time with his son in the wilderness.

We'll all have a really great week, whether near to or far from one another. But the best day of all will be the one in which we're all together again.