Another list, here it is: My 5 favorite things about coming back home.
Home for me is Belgium, it has been for many years even though I am from Canada. I only get to see my mom once a year, my siblings less. Not fun, I wish things were different, but this is our reality. (until I win the lottery, then the reality will be me having a jet)
This year I met up with my mom, auntie and two of their friends in Lucca, Italy and I feel incredibly blessed by this trip, it was pretty awesome.
Today my 5-year-old and I came back home, leaving my mom and co. to finish their trip to Rome. I wish that I could have stayed longer, but I (more specifically my son) was ready to come back home.
I always enjoy coming home after a trip, no matter how long my trip was and no matter how long I’m going to stay. Sometimes one night is enough!
Try explaining to your North American family/friends that what they are looking at is actually a toilet in the floor. In other words a whole in the ground. People living in Europe will know what I’m talking about. It’s not the standard, but you find it here and there, usually in public toilets.
Also traveling with children, you know that even if you made them go to the washroom before leaving your “vacation home”, they will need a toilet at the most inconvenient of times. Like while waiting in an extremely long waiting line for a museum, while sitting in a bus coach for an hour and a half non-stop drive up the mountains or while sitting it the dirtiest train you’ve ever been in. Yep. All happened to us this past week. Mister Teddy is going into the washing machine now. You can imagine why.
I’m sorry, nothing will ever be as comfy as your bed that has your body imprinted in it, your favorite pillows and your favorite bedding. I always miss my duvet.
I’m trilingual. Mother tongue is English, went to school in French and learned Flemish. So I’m pretty used to understanding people around me while traveling around Belgium and it’s surrounding countries. But once we go a bit further like Spain or Italy I feel like an illiterate. Then coming home and being able to understand all the conversations around me can be quite overwhelming. And fascinating. I’ve spent a WHOLE week not having a clue what’s going on other than “grazie” and “ciao”, and now I can make out fully-fledged discussions. *insert mind-blowing emoji*
Hey, don’t they say “Home is where the WIFI connects automatically”. Thank God for no more having to search for Wifi connections, having to then log on to Facebook (if you even have Facebook) to then agree to some terms and then maybe you will have a (probably poor) WIFI connection. Well, I’m glad that we now have free roaming in Europe, but no way am I letting my son use up all my data to watch “youtube kids”. I need my data for uploading pictures to Instagram. Ha!
The beautiful beings left behind
One of my dearest friends picked us up from the airport. Even though we had been away for just one week, she greeted us with the most enthusiastic shriek and hugs, it brought a tear to my eye.
Then when we arrived home, my daughter just arrived home from work and that hug, wow, it’s the best of hugs. That was for me the best thing about coming home. I’m taking her on my next trip, no matter what. For my 5 yo son it was getting greeted and licked in the face by our two Dachshunds. Unconditional lover there. Priceless.
So those were my 5 favorite things about coming home from traveling. But when I have to leave my mom, not knowing when we will see each other again, like with this trip, it makes it hard for me to go back home. I would want to stay near her, but this is the life that we live and I am thankful for the chances that we get.
What are you grateful for when you get back home?