Home Alone

I had a long day yesterday. I came home about 12 hours after I had left the house. That meant the kids hadn't seen me nor I them for 12 hours. I missed them dreadfully. And so did they.

They all showed it in different ways when I got home. Evan was whiny and clinging. He burst into tears at any slightest provocation. Jordan was all hyper and had a grin that threatened to split her face in half. She kept wanting to cuddle up to me. Of course, that irritated her needy brother who wanted Mommy's space all to himself. And then, there was Muffin, who was already asleep when I got home but woke a little while later and stayed awake for another hour slapping and poking at my face while I pretended to play dead.

I didn't change out of my work clothes till near 9 and had barely any time to put down my bags before I was descended upon.



















It really is an exhausting role with many balls to juggle. And after they all go down, I turn and look gratefully at my long-suffering husband who had been deflecting the "Where's Mommy?" "Why is Mommy taking so long to come home?" "Why is Mommy so late?" questions the entire evening and sigh. We are too exhausted to hold a conversation with each other. We just have dinner and watch television, relishing in the silence and peace, at 10 pm in the evening.

It's no wonder some moms choose to stop work.

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