Living Columns & Blogs

Trip over with return to darkness

You know, no matter what a good time you have on vacation, it is still nice to come home.

As a kid, I remember hearing my parents saying this and thinking they were nuts.

But it was nice to walk into our house this weekend, to familiar surroundings and be able to relax. Let our guard down a little. Not to be living out of bags (that get so unorganized after the first day on vacation).

Questions about meals are easily answered by opening up the fridge and the pantry instead of organizing with the rest of the party and dealing with restaurants and kids. (Not to mention the very well-intentioned grandparents who plan for dinner at 7:30 p.m. and little ones who "need" to eat by 6 p.m. and are used to starting the bedtime routine at 7:30 p.m. instead.)

We are still on Alaska time to a certain degree.

On the drive home from the airport, my son — who hadn't seen darkness in over a week — kept commenting, "It is getting dark mommy, this is scary."

I agree with him. After a week in Alaska in the middle of summer, suddenly seeing the dark is an almost eerie feeling. Something my observant very nearly 4-year-old also tuned into.

After this trip — our first plane trip with two children — we are pretty sure my husband could find a job as a sherpa, as could nearly any parent who has traveled with small children.

Additionally, I discovered this weekend that separating the lights from the darks is simply just a big sinkhole of time. Stick them all in together in the name of getting the laundry done — at least this once.

My 15-month old has appeared to maybe be the one most visibly excited to be home. She wandered the house the other night gleefully pulling toys out of the many toy boxes we have scattered about the house. Toys she hadn't seen in eight days! That is 1.8% of her life after all.

My son, however, is the most despondent about being home. There has been much whining about wanting to go back to grandma's cabin and go back to Alaska. He is in that stage that I remember as a kid.

Why should we go home when we had so much fun there?