We took a holiday.
It was wonderful.
We (mostly) had great Autumn weather. Cool crisp mornings, followed by sunny days. My very favourite kind of weather.
We saw lovely people in lovely places.
In our ten days, we stayed in five wonderful spots. We spent time with all of The Campground Kid’s grandparents, plus two of her second cousins, two of her first cousins once removed, and one of her second cousins once removed.
Our family and our favourite country were the killer combination that brought us home, and this holiday was all about them.
It was lovely.
But it was also hard.
It was hard to say goodbye again to people and places after such short visits. The goodbyes and the things we missed out on made it hard to keep the doubts from creeping in. Would we be happier somewhere different? Could we be doing something different? Should we be different?
It was logistically difficult too. Lots of driving, different food, different beds, different routines. They’re hard on us, and they’re even harder on The Campground Kid.
She coped remarkably. And seeing her outside her routine highlighted just how much she has grown and changed since we arrived in New Zealand seven months ago. I’m pretty sure I’m biased, but I’m also pretty sure that she’s an amazing kid.
It was a special time.
But it’s also quite a relief to be back. Back home, back to work, back to our routines.
This morning, our first day back, we were a bit tired (thanks to a wild bedtime last night and a cold for Campground Papa), but we were actually happy to get back to work. And The Campground Kid was very happy to get back to her daycare.
We were even happier when work was quiet enough that we could have plenty of coffee breaks and fit in some unpacking and some laundry.
And, despite the doubts, I can’t help but think that a life we’re happy to be back to is a pretty good life.