I am a homebody. I'd rather stay at home and do my thing than go *almost* anywhere. It takes, probably three full days in a row before I really hanker to leave the homestead just for the sake of leaving. I almost never stay home for three full days in a row, so that a guess. :) Suffice it to say, home is where my heart is.
As a kid, I was exactly the same way. Slumber parties were torture. I had no interest in sleeping anywhere but my own bed. I missed my family, my home, and all that came with it.
This is apparently just who I am.
When I'm pregnant, my homebody tendencies grow to agoraphobic proportions. Please don't make me go to the store! The library, being a 90 second drive or a ten minute walk is taxing. I just want to stay home, make food, sew and play with my family.
My children, bless them, tend to like to stay home too. They LOVE to go go go, but if we stay home for a couple days in a row, they don't sweat it.
Today was not such a day. It was busy, running around, crazy town.
We were home a good chunk, sure, but it was peppered with running muchly. It was a very very good day. But a busy day.
(The whirlwind that is going to bed around here!)
So, now, here I am, all my shortlings in bed, my dessert sitting here next to me, in my pjs, fat and happy.
(Sweet Ezra kisses for Daddy!)
I'm home. We're ALL home.
Just as it should be.