Ups and Downs

Some days life in France is just, well, life. You get up, you make some scrambled eggs, you take the kids to school, then you clean the kitchen. The eggs might cost more, the roads on the drive to school may be a little more windy, and the products in the kitchen have different names on the bottle, but are made from the same stuff as my products in Arizona.

After I walked the kids into school this morning, I walked with Carter back to the car. The group of ladies were there, talking, smoking, perhaps making plans to have coffee together, perhaps just chatting about nothing. But today I was on the outside of the circle. I stood back just a little with Carter, knowing that for today "it" wasn't going to happen. Today I wouldn't feel like of one the group, today I would just be the American girl who still can't understand everything.

I don't have many of these days, but when I do I long for home. I don't long for my beautiful house where everything works, or for my car, or even for my great indoor laundry room. I long for the familiarity of things. For hearing people chatting at Starbucks and knowing what they are saying. Or stopping by my sister's house to do something, or nothing, depending on the day. I long for making plans with Dave's parents and brother to have Sunday dinner together. The ease of making a dentist's appointment for the children. Home is where you make it, of course, but sometimes making a home takes longer than you want it to. Home is the place where you fit right in. Today I don't know if France can ever feel like Home.