There is always this subtle collegiate inertia that makes us a little afraid of being home for a couple weeks. It is a tiny fear and probably won't really hit you until you pull into your parents' driveway, but the best way to explain it is by organizing these emotions according to area of affliction.
Your head (occurs one to three minutes after being home). You always think that this time around you have become more mature. Your parents might finally be able to see you as that young adult they have been dreaming of. Yet, time and time again, we always seem to fall back into that family puzzle piece that has continuously labelled us as children, in the eyes of our parents.
Your stomach (occurs one to five days after being home). At first, being back home is so nice. Home cooked meals have never tasted so good. Real food is exactly what we need. Yet, we have grown accustomed to the notorious 2 a.m. Cook-Out trays, or that belligerent call to Jimmy John's. Back at home, nothing is open that late, and if you want to run to Waffle House, you are going to have to ask your parents. Frustratingly hungry and repressed, because you feel like you are 16 again, you just put your head on your pillow and pass out dreaming of the wonderful freedom of college.
Your mouth (occurs 30 to 45 minutes after being home). It is one thing to have that bi-monthly phone call with your dad, or the nightly text with your helicopter mom, but once you are home it gets very hard to keep the lid on your potty mouth. You will be so good at keeping your university-grade interjections at a minimum, but once you get too comfortable, it will just slip out. Your 10 year old brother and 50 year old mom will be equally offended.
Your liver (occurs almost every other night while you are home). Usually, only one of your parents is cool with you drinking in the house. They might even get drunk with you one night at dinner. Yet, you start to miss your friends. The quick booze runs. The bars. Oh, how easy it was back in college. SOS. Finally, you may get the guts to ask if you can have a "low-key" party at your house and if you can borrow the family fold-out table for "casual" beer pong." The results vary, but it was never this awkward to plan a party back in Collegeville.
Your grades. If you did not make any of the academic lists, then you are average. If you did not make the average, or fell below your goals, then you are probably terrified of breaking the news to your parents. Here is the thing you did not expect -- how supportive your parents are going to be. Even though you are going to be treated as a kid again, you cannot make an off-radar food run at 2 a.m., you are probably going to accidentally curse at dinner, and you cannot uncontrollably binge like you want to, being home means you are going to feel that love and strength you need to hit the next semester running.
Your heart (occurs after the self-acceptance of your hometown environment). Cozy, loved, and comfortable -- you are ready to have some pure relaxation. Away from the drama, politics of Greek life, and professors from hell, you know what -- it is great to be a kid again. Home, sweet home.
Happy holidays everyone!
