I'm excited to go, and yet I always get a bout of homesickness before I go somewhere - especially if I'm leaving LaMar behind. I have a great time doing whatever it is I' m doing, and then every night as I'm falling asleep, I'm counting the days until I get to go home again. I've been like that ever since I was a kid, counting the days left of our family vacation as I would fall asleep in the sleeping bag on the floor of whatever motel we'd be staying at. If LaMar is with me, I don't feel like that so much because he is my home. I like to go, and see, and do, but there's a certain comfort in being home in your own bed at night. I'd have made a crummy pioneer. So there - now you know a wierd little fact about me: I still get homesick.
I've tried to imagine what we'll do while I'm there, and I don't know. I do know that life with little ones is never too organized, and you mostly have to play each day by ear. I'm bringing all comfy play-on-the-floor clothes so that I can spend as much time as possible getting to know Lexi and Matthew before it's (too soon) time to go home. The trip home is always bittersweet: I'm glad to go to my own home, to my husband, and all the familiar things. But I'm always sad to leave Rex and his little family behind. I miss him and his sweetness (yes, Rex, you ARE sweet - don't try to deny it), and I miss the girl fun with Ronna. She is so smart and capable. And I certainly miss the wide-eyed wonder, innocence, and sheer enthusiasm of Lexi. And now I'll have another little person to miss: Matthew.
So, homesick or not, I'll make the flight tomorrow with Ronna and the little ones. It's going to be a whirlwind week: busy, fun, tiring, and completely wonderful. It'll be a Rocky Mountain high.