If it wasn’t already obvious that we’ve all been using our little mountain house as a bit of a crutch, it is glaringly so now. The kids are sad – they don’t want to leave. We are all pretty grumpy, in fact. And the long and the short of it is, we had a bad experience, and this place has been the embodiment of security since we arrived. It is tiny, safe, and we were here long enough for it to become home, and therefore, comfort. It was just what we all needed to recover and regroup.
And now it’s over and we’re going back on the road tomorrow. The little one is scared of things going wrong, the big one doesn’t want to go to any big cities, and the middle one doesn’t want to leave her dog friends, who have been the real life replacement for the ones she lost in Rome. This tranquil village has reminded them of their own home, so that makes it harder for them to leave too. You know when you go on vacation, and you have a great time, but when it’s over, you’re just ready to be home again? It’s like that, only they aren’t going home, and sometimes they get kind of mad about that. And sometimes I do too.
Obviously, I’m not looking for any sympathy here, and I haven’t forgotten how unbelievably lucky we are to be doing this. It is the experience of a lifetime, and even if it doesn’t feel like that every single day, especially for the kids, it is. As a friend and travel-with-kids veteran told our girls, “you may not appreciate this trip right now, but when you’re older you’ll realize how cool it was of your parents to do it!”. And I guess that there are days when we all need to hang onto that one. Because sometimes we are homesick, sometimes we are tired of our own company, sometimes we are scared, sometimes we really miss our family and friends, and sometimes we really just want someone else to figure it all out for us.
Because, you know, as great as it is, it can be pretty exhausting. And I’m sure if you’re reading this after getting in from an eight hour work day, you’re scoffing contemptuously right now, but I’m all about the honesty of this experience, and I’m telling you, it’s not all raindrops and roses. Most of it is, but not all of it.
So there.
Roadschooling Claytons 
my goodness it looks like Colorado. I know the sentiment of leaving the comfortable and venturing out again into the unknown. With children it must be doubly strong, the urge to stay in the Known. I hope your next stop offers everyone a renewed faith in the next step forward.
Thanks! That’s a great way to put it – staying in the known. So much easier than venturing out into the unknown. But we know it will be worth any minor discomforts we endure along the way.
But, just think when you left Rome, you had no idea how great this mountain reprieve bit would be. Who knows what’s around the next corner? Sure to be amazing along with the overwhelming. We’re homesick for you too. Hugs to all! xoxo
Jane, You are great with your words and your descriptives make is easier to understand exactly what you are feeling. I totally get what you are saying, and I also know as Lara stated, ‘ there are more great memories around the corner to add to this once in a lifetime adventure.’ Hugs to all. Our motto when Sandra, Beth and I travelled for that year…long time ago…was “Be happy don’t Worry.” We even bought the t-shirts. A lot of crappy stuff happened to us on that trip too, but I would not change the experience for the world!