For the past eight days (yes, eight days!) Lenny and I have been away, sans kids. You see, Lenny’s really good at what he does. Like eight-days-in-Puerto-Rico-at-world-class-resorts good at what he does. So his lovely company wined, dined, and sunned us beyond our wildest imaginations — taking us far, far away from our everyday world.
Don’t get me wrong, being able to drop a towel on the floor and having it magically disappear while I was eating a seven-course dinner was pretty spectacular. Especially since I didn’t have to do any dishes after that dinner either. But no matter how spoiled I was (very…very…very), there were some things at home I couldn’t wait to return to. Here are just a few…
Post-bath baby butt.
The ever-changing toothless, yet toothy grin.
Crazy toddler bed head.
Mumbles of imaginary conversation with baby dolls.
Enthusiastic mouth explosions as Lego guys and Squinkies go head-to-head in intense battles.
An early morning squeeze on the couch from Big, and a sleepy, barely audible, “Mmm, Mommy…” (Which I imagine my big boy won’t be saying much longer.)
Little settling in to that just-right fetal position on my lap, then sticking his arm out, begging for me to scratch his stress away.
The unabashed giggles of sibling conspiracy.
Wildly entertaining (and borderline dangerous) dance offs between two hip-hoppin’ wannabes.
The simplicity of honey sandwiches and string cheese.
Disney-Channel inspired quotes. (You know, the epic kind.)
The way that Little’s torso is the just-right size at this very moment in time so that when I pick him up, his legs wrap around my waist and his head rests perfectly on my shoulder.
Playing Princess Sofia with Pink and getting to be the “ambulance” that the bad guy wants to steal.
Big’s chest as he puffs up with pride over a seemingly small, but obviously important school moment.
Little’s funny way of working math into everything we do — like pointing out that we’re 13 minutes late for school (so far), or that Pink got two times as many pretzels as he did at lunch.
Watching little bodies perform great big feats of strength.
Seeing little minds spin and spin to come up with big, important thoughts.
Soft skin. Loud snores. And the peace that finally sets in with sleep.
Being my kids’ mom. Which, typically, is not a laying-on-a-lounge-chair-sipping-water-from-a-coconut kind of thing. No, it’s an intense, grueling, around-the-clock, physical, emotional, and, yes, intellectual job. One that — when I take a step back from it for a bit — I realize I’m actually pretty darn good at. And, truth be told, it comes with some amazing perks too. (But don’t think that means you shouldn’t be sending a gourmet mojito my way — right this very minute.)