I've come to have low expectations when coming home from a trip away from the family. Countless episodes of rushing to see Girl to flood her with kisses have been met with a lukewarm, What Up, Woman? Okay, time to get back to my Dora/painting/mud cake baking/torturing beast cat/what have you. Peace out.
No tears of joy. No squeezing hugs. Not even a face frozen with unbelievable delight. MOMMY! THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! YOU ARE HOME! I DIDN'T THINK I COULD GO ON WITHOUT YOU!
Because that's how I've always felt.
Yet, maybe things are changing.
Monday morning, as soon as I heard her start to wake up, I busted into her room like the Kool-Aid Man.
It's me. I'm home.
She was sitting up in bed and as soon as she saw me, she started laughing IN DELIGHT. Mama! More laughing. Mama!
Of course, this made the reunion all the sweeter. And for once, all of my hugs and kisses were not received by a stiff, quietly polite solider-girl, but returned in full.
And it was good.