Yesterday was brutal.
Returning to real life following 8 1/2 days of no responsibility, no deadlines and no interruptions was tough. Not to mention nobody made my bed, nobody cleared my dishes, nobody asked me if they could get anything for me, and nobody placed chocolates on my bed at bedtime.
There were no beautiful white sandy beaches to lay on, no Caribbean blue waters to gaze into and no warm sun shining on my face.
I grocery shopped with a four year old. Held children close when we discovered the rabbit, Daisy died sometime between breakfast and after school. Fixed dinner while Mike and Luke dug a grave. Did more loads of laundry in one day than I ever have before. (And I even like laundry!?) Tried not to throw up from my head swaying all day. Helped a child in the night with stomach cramps and diarrhea. Tried to navigate through too many unanswered emails from the last week. Brought in garbage cans from the street. Wiped poop off of a toilet seat. Dug through piles of junk mail, school papers and report cards. And a myriad other things that made me wish desperately I was still in the Caribbean.
I don't have to convince anyone that I love my real life. I do. As much as I loved everything about my last week, throughout the glorious vacation, I was reminded over and over that I love my real life at home too.
Real life will just take a few days to adjust getting back into.
And then, maybe I'll be able to write about my wonderful vacation and post glorious pictures without crying because it is over.
While I type this, my 4 year old is crying because his Teddy Graham cracker fell in the toilet. Apparently, sometimes he eats crackers while he sits on the toilet.