I really don’t know what to write about today, but I know that I need to put pen to paper (or fingers to keys) and get something out. Because it’s good exercise for my writing muscles. DH came home last night, so our family is complete and in our own home after 3 weeks. If you recall, the first 2-ish weeks, we were on vacay in Texas (a.k.a. The Broiler). After the first week, Steve flew back home, and then flew out to Canada, eh, the day before we came home. That was last weekend.
I feel like this summer has flown by. This is the first summer in 8 or 9 years that we haven’t shipped kids off to “Camp Nana” (my parents’ house in The Broiler). In the past, the kids have enjoyed their hospitality and we’ve enjoyed a kid-free stretch of time. This year, though, we did things differently. We usually go visit The Broiler over spring break, but because our school district is strange, our break is later than ever one else’s in the free world. Because of this, we don’t get to hang out with my mom and dad as much as we’d like because they work (she’s a teacher, he’s a professor). So we spend our days hanging out at their house waiting for them to come home each afternoon. It’s nice, but I’d rather spend time with my parents. I kind of like them.
We decided this year to postpone the 800-mile spring break trek until summer. We could all go to Camp Nana! This made me super happy. I love Camp Nana. They cook for me there. Grown-up food. They make my coffee there. They hang out with my kids when the little rascals get up at dark-thirty in the morning and I can sleep. They play with my kids when I go out for a little shopping. Unlike here, there’s actually places to shop in The Broiler. That’s another plus. I still do my own laundry though, but even that seems easier there. And I really like whatever air freshener Mom uses. Very aromatic but not knock-you-down-with-stink.
Every time we leave Camp Nana, I can count on at least one kid crying loudly, while at least one more kid gets teary-eyed. I’ve never admitted this, but I hate leaving Camp Nana, too. I want to stay there. In fact, there’s a house two doors down for sale and every time I drove past it on this visit, I wished with all my heart we could buy it and move. Maybe I just wished with part of my heart, because home is here, be it ever so humble.
I’m already trying to figure out how to get to Camp Nana’s over Christmas break. Maybe The Broiler will only be The Warming Oven then.