It’s always wonderful to travel, visit loved ones and be on vacation but there’s nothing like the feeling of finally coming home. And we are exactly that. At home.
I’ve never really had a place called home until I got married. Yes, I did have a family and a physical location called “home” but I was always a sort of drifter and was never settled at one place. I moved around quite often and really never stayed at one city too long. But now, I belong somewhere, both physically and mentally and it’s a good feeling.
I’m trying to get over a two-hour jet lag (I know, it’s quite pitiful considering that we’ve always traveled overseas up until few years ago) and after a sleepless night, I finally got out of bed at 6am. The world is so quiet and I feel very blessed and content knowing I have been given so much in my life, especially my loving husband and an adorable little girl (yup, they are both in Mountain Time Zone right still and are sound to sleep).
My home is not perfect by any means. Christmas decorations are still up and it looks pretty disastrous with my daughter’s toys everywhere. But I love this chaotic messy home because it is mine.