Home Sweet Home

Visiting “home”.

It can be a love fest filled with happy homecomings, rewarding reminiscing and a feeling of security (and delicious food!)

It can also be tense, stressful, hectic and eye opening.

You can guess where I’m going with this. Right?

Going home to Toronto with the kids is usually is a good balance of all of the above. It’s JUST LIKE every day life in Miami Beach- except for a week I have the original #mommyisbusy judging my every fucking move, my kids doing whatever they fucking want (candy for breakfast, bedtime and midnight) and a bunch of schizophrenic/shitty weather. Oh joy.

My mom is basically me- but on serious fucking steroids. I like to (try) to always be prepared and organized. I get anal about certain things and sensitive at random times. I thrive on sensibility. I can get catty. I’m a snob. I can be an aloof bitch. All things I see now, I learned from my mommy dearest.

This trip was for the boys to hang with gramma in Toronto, but instead it had me doubting my sanity and ongoing quest for a life of ease and peace. I’m 40! I just want to be happy! It was supposed to be a kick-off summer vacation! An escape from everyday beach life to the urban buzz of Canada’s largest city! Two days in- I was ready to leave “home” again. (And we in fact, did- we escaped to Montreal for the weekend- a whole separate post!).

During our stay- my mom pestered me to let my kids eat a fucking box of Timbits for breakfast because “they like it” and she spoiled them with everything that I, the bad mommy, doesn’t let them have (sugar! dairy! conventional food! Cinnamon Toast Crunch! unlimited Minecraft time!) but would turn around and question me- why they don’t sit down and eat complete meals. And the clincher? She told me she ‘feels sorry’ for Mike because I’m so bossy! LOL. ME?! Bossy?

Oh moms…

I realize that the kids loved every second of it and that is what it was all about after all. Gramma time. The grandchildren. The sugar.

How I made it through the week? I closed my eyes, tapped my tan faded heels together and repeated “there’s no place like home- there’s no place like home”.

Home in Miami Beach, that is.

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