Throughout the school year, I've known people who would go home on the weekends, three or four days at a time sometimes. Halloween weekend some, Thanksgiving week others. I, however, stood by continuously separated from home.

Yes, my family came up to Michigan for Christmas--but it wasn't exactly what I felt like I was looking for. I'm the kind of person who is in a constant state of need for a change in atmosphere. Being away from home for so long kind of multiplied that feeling by about a bazillion.

When my flights were being disconnected last weekend, I nearly had a mental breakdown because I felt like I just could not wait for a second longer to see my family. Luckily everything pulled through. With my mom's guidance, I was able to successfully rebook my flights. I arrived Saturday night at around 9:00 PM. My mom was there to pick me up along with my 4-month-old baby sister, who was napping (kind of) in the back seat. Once we got home, it was around 10:30. The next day, the temperature rose to a warm 72 degrees. Literally a sixty-degree difference from where I was about 24 hours prior.

I was quick to do some chores that my mom needed to be done. Clean the pool, take out the trash, feed the animals, and other little things. Even though these tasks may sound minor, in my mom's eyes, they were the utmost helpful. For the first time in a while, my mom was able to sit and relax, cook food, and simply make and eat breakfast without having to 100% focus on the little one. Instead, I was there to entertain her. In a way, I was not only helping my mom, but myself and the cute little bugger. I was able to connect with my little sister better.

I later learned how to hold her correctly as well as change her diaper. The next day, my mom left me in charge of the little princess so she could go have some brief "vacay" time now that the valiant son has come to save the day -- the title "valiant" was quickly tested.

About ten or fifteen minutes had passed after my mom left; the mini-queen woke up and began to cry a little bit. Me, thinking I've suddenly mastered the basic skills of infant nurturing, figured I'd accept the challenge.

So, I went to her room and as soon as I opened the door, she saw me and started smiling. I swear, I just want to put the smile in a bottle. She's so cute! Anyway, I digress; I thought to myself, "this won't be so bad." Little did I know she had something else in store for me. We hung out for a bit on the couch in the living room watching TV. She was laughing, kicking around; just having a total blast. Then -- it happened. She started to come down with this face of upset. She started to cry.

"Oh God."

But then I turned her around to look at her diaper -- there was the blue line of distress. No matter -- this is what my mother has trained me for. My time has come. I took her to her changing table and undid her diaper. Dear God -- the brown smear of death.

Fear not child -- I will relieve you of your distress

Literally mere seconds after I started wiping her, she began to scream bloody murder. Luckily I was already pre-exposed to this at Christmas -- you cannot break me, little one. I will not let you. Then in the nick of time, I strapped her up in a brand spankin' new diaper and buttoned her onesie up.

You will not conquer me, little princess -- not yet, anyhow.

As soon as I picked her back up from her changing table, she stopped whaling around. I wiped her tears and just bounced to calm her down. She quieted down just in time for mom to arrive. She was proud to see that I survived the crash-course test orchestrated by the little bugger.

"He passed the test, mom. He is worthy of calling me his sister, now," said the baby -- probably.

It was later discovered that she's FASCINATED by the fact that my hair is short and weird compared to my mom and sister's hair. She doesn't cry at all whenever I pick her up. I reunited with my other sister as well as a good handful of friends from high school.

Everything got pretty emotional upon departure this past weekend.

'Gonna miss you. Make us proud, again." -Mom

I basically turned into a combo of my Grandmas when it comes to departures (Sorry Grandma K and Abuelita). But I can see it's natural for these feelings to occur from time to time.

Though, like both of my grandmothers, I'll probably cry upon every departure from home, it's always good to be reminded of where I come from. It reminds me of my sense of humanity as well as my sense of family.

At this point, I'll be back in Michigan.

I love you guys!

Love,

A proud Spartan,

A proud Reyes,

A proud Brother.