My daughter and I returned to Paris this morning after a trip to the U.S.  We REALLY didn't want to leave our new house and all our friends and family but it always amazes me how I actually have a feeling of coming home when I get off the plane. Since this is the last time we'll make this trip "home" to Paris I felt a bit sad as I walked through the airport that smells a bit like cheese (in a pleasant way) and rode in a taxi back to the apartment. It was morning so when we reached our neighborhood the kids were on their scooters heading to school and everyone was bundled up in, what always seems to us, overly heavy coats and scarves. We aren't really a part of their world but it does feel very familiar. It will definitely be bittersweet when this is all over.

I won't miss the jet lag, though.