I Wuv You, Mom

Jason's in Puerto Rico this week.  I don't mind it quite as much as I did when he started going all those years ago, I just try not to think about the fact that this time last year I was lounging on the beach.  Or throwing up into the ocean, I can't quite remember which.  Either way, it was paradise.  But even though he's there and I'm here and I'm mostly used to that, I'm still tired.  It's been a busy and fun week, but the final stretch is always the longest.

Tonight was piano lessons, dinner, and supposed to be baths, but I decided all I had the energy for after dinner was a dance party.  So the karaoke machine was plugged in, the disco lights turned on, and party we did.

And we laughed and danced and jumped and Leah even taught us how to whip and nae nae (oh, the things my kids learn at public school) and then everyone was pooped and we headed upstairs for bed.

And instead of lectures and prodding and scolding and threatening (what it occasionally takes for responsiveness at bedtime), I offered hugs and snuggles and a listening ear to Adam's book (that was actually Mrs. Johnson's pick because she told him he had to read it) and I saw heavy, fluttering lashes from Emma, and I got a detailed recounting of the current class read-aloud and Mrs. Keese's hilarious voices from Leah and the best good night of all from Noah when I layed him down with his tiny Mickey and Donald and his silly night mask-

"I wuv you Mom.

I wuv you.

I wuv you, Mom Mom."

And that made it all worth it.

Now off to do the dishes.