You CAN go home

Twelve weeks ago I sat in my driveway, getting ready to drive cross country and move to my childhood home for a semester. I sat there, giddy with anticipation, annoyed that we were already running late, and wondering: can you ever really go home again?

I knew what coming home looked like in my mind. It looked a lot like pink fuzzy clouds, happy unicorns and endless rainbows. But the truth is that I hadn’t been home in two years! And the visits I had made home were never for more than two months. I hadn’t been home for more than a two month period in over 19 years!

Would I be able to navigate the changing city? Did this mean that I had to get dressed up just to go buy groceries? What would I do all morning while my kid was in school? Who would I talk to?

Twelve weeks into this amazing journey and I am feeling so happy today that I decided to tell you all about it.

It turns out, YES, you can go home again. And you won’t want to leave again. Why did I ever leave anyway? Oh, right… anywayz…

I am home.

The other day I went out for breakfast with an old friend (for the fourth time). We sat there giggling like school girls, giggling like we used to. She’s an amazing personal cheerleader and the first person I picked up when I got my first car. She understood my reference points, because she was there for many of them. And our two and a half hour breakfast date ended only because she had a business meeting. It’s alright, we’ve already made plans for another girls outing.

The following afternoon Mackenzie and I met up with other friends. Karla and I met as kindergarteners and continued to share our lives through playdates, sleepovers, and classroom musings for our entire childhoods. Today, her daughter and mine are the same age. They run around together, visit museums together, and, yes, sometimes get bored together because the mommys are too busy talking. The past 19 years have led us down some different paths, but our friendship just continues to grow.

And early next week I will venture out into foodie heaven, again. My high school “Hyper Thursday”  co-conspirator and I are working our way through some amazing local restaurants. I leave the kiddo at home, happy for some alone time with her tita and tito (my parents) and head off for some adult conversation. Fabiola doesn’t have any children and so the conversation flows in very different directions than with my other friends. It has become a welcomed afternoon “off” the mommy gig.

It’s amazing how many people I’ve been able to reconnect with and, to me, even more amazing how strong those childhood bonds are formed. A lot of the friends I’ve been hanging out I’ve known all my life. I have memories of us playing as little girls and dancing in nightclubs as teenagers. And now, laughing together over a meal as adults.

We have another twelve weeks in Tijuana and I no longer wonder what I will do with myself. Now I find myself wondering when I am going to fit it all in! I am reconnecting, rediscovering, and reenergizing. And all those worries I had as I pulled out of my driveway? Well, I’ve already damaged the car, I’ve gotten used to getting dressed up to go to the supermarket (or at least wearing something presentable, I am NOT wearing heals to buy milk!), and, as for my mornings, I’ve discovered that learning how to set up a website by my technologically handicapped self takes up enough of my time.

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