I am extremely blessed. I know that my kids love me. Case in point… Last night, Kristin, Nana and myself were playing “Goal” (new game invented by Kristin involving a laundry basket) with the kids. It was a happy time except for the fighting over who got the ball next. After one too many fights, one too many tantrums, and one too many high throws that almost knocked over the stereo speakers, I had to end the game. I started taking the laundry basket to the basement, which involves me going through the kitchen, which must then involve closing the gate to the kitchen. As soon as I rounded the corner to go down the basement stairs, the crying broke out. Full on screaming. “Mommy!” But really what I heard was, “Mmmmmoooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” When I came back up the stairs, both Mason and Cooper were at the gate screaming their heads off. I opened the gate, pulled them into my arms and the crying quickly stopped (or at least that is how I’ll remember it.) I guess they missed me. It’s nice to be missed when you take the laundry basket downstairs for 30 seconds. It has nothing to do with the fact that I had ended the game. It was all about them missing me. I just know it.
They Love Me May 7, 2009