Less than 48 hours until I leave the boat for a five-week holiday and how do I feel? I’m freaking the f*** out. Did I mention that my first stop is in Chile and will take about 47 hours from start to finish? Nevermind the fact that I just started packing and my large duffel bag (that I spent hours reading reviews on to find the best one) has a gigantic tear in it. Oh and because of some weird “boat crew” rules, some officials have to take my passport to “sign me out of the country” or “off the official crew list” or “I have no idea what I’m talking about” so I won’t be getting my passport back into my possession until about three, THREE hours until my first (of FOUR) international flight takes off. This should be good.
So it’s a good idea that I’m sitting in the crew mess by myself crying at the TV which is currently playing a black market Bali copy of “Stepmom”…right?
Yeah, I thought so too.
I’m actually not freaking out over the torn bag or passport situation, but more so the fact that I’ll be home for the first time in over a year since I left to work and travel on the boat. In fact, for the past two to three months since I’ve known I would be having holidays I’ve gone through excitement, elation, shock, anxiety, panic, calmness, and even a little bit of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out – don’t worry, I had to google it at one point too…). Adding the fact that for a pit stop before I make it home I’ll be visiting one of my closest friends in Chile for a week, you’ve got one serious mental case.
First I should say (before anyone’s feelings get hurt) that I am absolutely ecstatic to be seeing my family and friends. That, there is no question about. But now let’s think about this: I’ve been away for over a year, and now I’m going to be back in my childhood bedroom (okay, let’s be honest- I never really moved out of it) with all of my family (that includes visiting Grandma, Uncle, AND the foreign exchange student that my parents are hosting for the year) for four weeks. I don’t know the last time I was around that many people.
I’m also thinking that four weeks is going to fly by, but at the same time feel really slow. Wow, what a lame sentence. Let me elaborate; after the initial excitement of being home and seeing everybody calms down, it will be back to the same old same old (for everyone still living at home at least) and all of my friends have full time, 9-5 jobs now. I do have a lot of cool things planned (Santacon NYC, I’m looking at you) but I’m hoping that the mid week doldrums don’t creep up on me. At least both of my parents are now retired? HEY never thought I’d say that! Then again… that could be a lot of parent time. (Oh hey mom and dad, I was uh… just… kidding…? LOVE YOU)
The other factor is that I’m going to be away from the boat for five weeks. Once again, real clincher of a sentence, I know. If all goes well (for me at least), they won’t go anywhere exciting with the boat while I’m gone. I’m excited for my first winter in two years, but if I see pictures from Thailand while I’m freezing my buns off in Maryland, I’m going to be super jealous. Also, it will just be weird in general to be away from them for so long; we’re kind of an odd twisted family in a way. Plus, without the token American on board, who are they going to make fun of that whole time? (Haha just kidding, it’s totally going to be Kate)
Okay now here comes the sappy mushy stuff (Don’t say I didn’t warn you). This will be the longest I’ll have been away from E since he was born. Seriously. I met him for the first time when I flew to Florida for a final interview when he was ten days old. Then three weeks later I started working as his nanny full time. I remember when we were back in Perth and he would stay at his grandparents for two nights and when he came back I thought he looked months older. Now it’s going to be five whole weeks. I swear this kid will be speaking in full sentences when I get back, asking where the hell I’ve been and that he’s been waiting for me to wipe the poop off his bum for weeks. Honestly though, he’s my little buddy (Well, if dad-dad’s around, I get the axe. Or even mom. Okay so I’m third best, whatever.) and when it’s just the two of us it’s so stinking cute and we always have a laugh. Yesterday we were at the Jurong Bird Park just playing and laughing and it hit me- I’m really going to miss him. I won’t miss the diapers or the screaming fits, but I’m almost positive I’m going to miss him at least once every single day. Alright, time to stop this. Between the sappy movie and the missing-the-baby talk, I’m about to need a tissue.
Anyway, I think it’s now something like 40 hours left to go, so I should probably figure that luggage situation out.