Home

Despite any uncertainties about future plans, Home is a surefire cure.

Home.

For me, home is chaos.
Home is family.
Home is love.
Home is caring.
Home is comfort.

Home is kids running around in costumes screaming at the top of their lungs, begging to be paid even just a little attention.

Home is waking up every morning at 10:30 am and still having enough sleep in you to take a nap later around 6:00 pm.
Home is never wearing real clothes, never wearing real pants.
Home is refusing to leave the house because of the negative 10 degree expected forecast with a solid two feet of snow.
Home is acting like the respective ages of my siblings and consequently forgetting about looming deadlines and applications for adulthood.
Home is a glowing Christmas tree, its branches barely bending under the pressure of Scandinavian straw ornaments.
Home is listening to your Norwegian grandfather give the same geneology speech you've heard at least 20 times (sometimes more than once in a single sitting), all because you secretly hope you are indeed related to royalty from every continent as well as the fact that, deep down, you don't know how many more opportunities you'll have to hear such a lovely rant.
Home is watching your baby brother's face light up as you help him pick and purchase a present for everyone in the family.
Home is good food.
Home is realizing that no matter where life takes you or your family, a house full of loving people awaits to take you in the next time school burns you out, a job falls through, or someone breaks your heart.

Despite its multifaceted, never-ending definition, Home is exactly what I need right now, and I can't imagine being anywhere else for this holiday break.