A Mother’s Madness: Can a homebody find happiness on vacation?

There is something about vacations that don’t go exactly as you had planned and after about two or three days away, you are looking forward to returning home. Over Thanksgiving, we packed up seven of the eight children and headed for Florida. It was a long drive but everyone was very well behaved. It wasn’t even the kids that got me homesick and long for familiar walls. It is disheartening to plan for a trip for over a month, prepare all the necessary foods and pack all the suitcases, get all the affairs in order that will be left behind and then once you finally arrive at your destination, feel like going back home. The excitement and anticipation dramatically wears off once the climax is reached and the destination is obtained. It’s like a vegetarian deer hunting. You go through all the procedures to hunt, stalk and kill the animal but once you do, the thought of actually eating it repulses you. I’m not saying my vacation was that bad, I just really missed being in my own home, my own bed, eating my own cooking and even watching my own television. I was out of my comfort zone, although, the places I stayed at would have been described as very comfortable to most people. Big screen televisions, beach out the front door, stocked refrigerator, unlimited use of a pool, everything a sane person could want. So why wasn’t I happy? I think the solution lies deep within my psyche. I am by nature a simple person. My father-in-law offered me a very expensive glass of Porte wine. It probably cost more than what I make in two weeks. Tried as I did, I did not like it any better than my familiar bottle of beer. The thought of spending that much money on something that I didn’t like the taste of to begin with didn’t set right with me. Then there was the amount of food furnished. When our family goes on vacation, it is almost embarrassing the amount of food we ingest. Now if we saved up and didn’t eat anything all month and gorged ourselves on a designated holiday, it wouldn’t be so bad, however, we make ourselves miserable with the quantity consumed. There is something secure about being in your own home and in your own bed. I don’t worry about the kids breaking something irreplaceable or misbehaving as much when they are in the privacy of Seymour. I can discipline them as I see fit without any raised eyebrows glaring at me from across the room or my punishment being revoked. Although the bed we slept in was high quality, it lacked the familiar valley my husband and I have both grown accustomed to. Overall, our Thanksgiving vacation was much like any other trip we have taken. It was uneventful, fun-filled, low stress and enjoyable for the family. I honestly had a wonderful time, it is just disappointing to me that I look so forward to it every year and then once I get there, I miss being at home. I often wonder if I could ever get truly excited about being away from home or if I am defined as a homebody. Maybe that is why we are having Christmas at our house this year!