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  • It's only been two days since I've been home. Actually, less than 48 hours.

    It's strange to wake up twice in a row in the same bed, same city, same surroundings. It's strange to not see the boys I've been living with (that I barely knew), strange not to expect that in a few hours I'll be making a kid's wish come true or speaking to a crowd - tearing up at all the love in the room. It's hard to accept that I may not be inspired today, or tomorrow, or for a while...

    The trip took us over 5700 miles around the country. At every stop, I was in awe. There was so much love and support and gratitude and closeness. Each city we visited, each new office or park or museum or neighborhood welcomed us with open arms, excitement...cake! Now I wake up, I make my own coffee, sit down at my own table, write a little bit and wait for the kids to get up and most likely fight over some toys or who is touching who too much. I don't get to eat out for every meal. I don't wonder what might happen. I already know what the day will bring.

    I used to take such comfort in that knowing. It was something that took me years to get used to but once I did I loved it - the stability, the familiarity. There's a lot of peace in knowing what to expect. It makes being anxious harder to achieve.

    But in the last 30 days, I found that I miss being anxious. I miss not knowing. I miss wondering.

    And now I'm just wondering how I'll get back to where I was.
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