I just booked plane tickets for April break. It took me awhile to prioritize figuring out when (if!) the boys had spring break. Turns out they do, and it is a week and a half at the very beginning of April.  This would give us plenty of time to take in one of those exotic destinations that are now in the realm of possibility for spring break travel. Bali, New Zealand, Fiji and Australia are all close enough to consider.  But in the end, I booked flights back to the US.  I can already hear the howls from those who would love to have the proximity to these locales we have. But here’s the deal. We are all tired – not the kind of tired you get when you’re not sleeping well, or the tired after a long day of hiking or swimming, or even the tired after a 13 hour plane ride. This is a kind of exhaustion unique to those experiencing a new set of circumstances. It’s the tired you get when you are bombarded with “different” all day and then you fall asleep in a bed that feels unfamiliar.

This is not to say that I am not enjoying our journey.  There are things I really love, like the way the lights from the skycrapers provide a dim glow at night, like the whole city is a nightlight; or the delight of being able to walk to wherever I want in extraordinarily mild temperatures; or the surprisingly stealthy appearance of a window cleaner right in front of me, 13 stories up as I sit and write. It’s just that when it came to booking a vacation, the thought of enjoying a new place, new foods, new vistas, new rhythms just felt too much like what we are doing here everyday.  We needed a break from our adventure –   a vacation back to the familiar. I chickened out. Don’t judge me.

So we are headed back to Truckee, CA, where (knock wood) the biggest challenge will be the best route down the mountain and the choice between nachos and chicken fingers.  I am sure we will partake of the dizzying travel opportunities presented by living on this side of the world. Eventually. For now, a little bit of home feels right.