Vienna trip is over: decompressing
I didn't write yesterday because I was utterly finished by the time we finally got to bed; and today is the first home day. I've unpacked, began to tackle (a little bit of the immense amount of) the dust from the building works, and am sitting down for a breather of five minutes before the blessings return from their grandparents.
God, I have missed home. Missed family, missed friends, missed my husband most of all - but home is even more than all those.
Home is a place where I feel welcome, where I feel my children are welcomed - even by strangers. A place where people randomly smile at us, have a chat, ask how we are. Where my neighbour says hello and welcome back.
I find I really do have to decompress and get comfortable again! The best I can describe the way I felt in Vienna is, oppressed. It's an oppressive environment; at all times with kids I'm on edge about disturbing others, expecting to be told to make them shut up and be invisible... it actually happened only rarely but the looks, the demonstrative sighs, the eyerolling was constant. And it impacted on my relationship with my kids - instead of enjoying the moment with them I'd be shutting them up, hushing them, telling them to stop being kids.
It's so good to be home, where I can breathe out.
At Vienna airport. I didn't have the energy to stop them wiping the floor at departure. |
God, I have missed home. Missed family, missed friends, missed my husband most of all - but home is even more than all those.
Home is a place where I feel welcome, where I feel my children are welcomed - even by strangers. A place where people randomly smile at us, have a chat, ask how we are. Where my neighbour says hello and welcome back.
I find I really do have to decompress and get comfortable again! The best I can describe the way I felt in Vienna is, oppressed. It's an oppressive environment; at all times with kids I'm on edge about disturbing others, expecting to be told to make them shut up and be invisible... it actually happened only rarely but the looks, the demonstrative sighs, the eyerolling was constant. And it impacted on my relationship with my kids - instead of enjoying the moment with them I'd be shutting them up, hushing them, telling them to stop being kids.
It's so good to be home, where I can breathe out.
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