At a recent session, my therapist suggested simply acknowledging that the first day or two back home is hard for me. Don't put too much pressure on myself to get everything organized or running smoothly. I really worked on that today- acknowledged that our late return yesterday had me feeling anxious, acknowledged that while I didn't feel ready for the week, the week was ready for me, and accepted that though today our bags remain packed, they'll be unpacked in due time.
Despite my wonderful walk this morning, I felt pretty crappy by early evening. Bags strewn all over the living room and hallway, backpacks and folders all over the family room, all kinds of stuff covering the dining and kitchen tables, and not an inch of kitchen counter space visible. Add one bizarre phone call from my mom and what do you get? Sobbing.
I'm floundering a bit in the chaos of re-entry into everyday life. It's ok though. My children gave me hugs as I cried. They asked why I was crying out of genuine concern for my well being. The four of us worked on the family room together, and got the backpacks in order for tomorrow. Despite the tears, I'm putting one foot in front of the other, doing the small things, and sitting with the discomfort of re-entry.