Going to San Antonio to visit the parents. I always dread and love visiting "home" . I LOVE San Antonio. I love it. I love the food, the shopping and the familiarity of just going "home". But, as everyone knows the older you get the more complicated your family becomes. I can't quite figure out if I was just blind and oblivious to my crazy family when I was little, or they just hid it better. But make no mistake they are crazy and they can make me crazy.
I think the other part is home hasn't felt like home since Chris and I got married. Chris makes me feel at home. Chris loves me pretty unconditionally and accepts me for all my quirks and zaniness. My mom on the other hand... not as much. If my mom could have it her way I'd have long blond hair and be a successful news anchor. Not a pastors wife. I never really know what to expect when I get home. A happy homecoming or a judgemental walk thru the door. A fun time laughing and visiting with my parents or tear filled three days. Good thing no matter what, I always get to come home to Chris. My real and true home. Where I can have "mocha" hair and not be a size 0. I can just be me.
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