Home.

Home. I love being home. Given the choice, Kenny would probably want to go out and do something while I would rather stay home. I like being in my own house, doing my own thing, on my own timeline.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for get-togethers and dinners out and the general celebration of things every now and then, especially around the holidays. I enjoyed this holiday season immensely. We did a lot and saw a lot (and drank a lot). And it was WONDERFUL to have so much help with Riley for seven solid days. But man is it nice to be home.

Granted, we didn’t arrive back home last Saturday, drop everything where it landed, and relax the week away. No, we jumped right into putting away clothes and Christmas presents, taking down our Christmas decorations, cleaning up the house, running errands, making a big grocery run, and doing a massive amount of laundry (8 loads….ouch).

But we’re home. We’ve been home for a week. And we don’t have anywhere to go until the first weekend in February.

And that’s just fine with me.