The last two weeks have been, well, weird.
Two weeks ago, I was all Holy crap! The kids are leaving in a week! I have to wash clothes! And pack! And run around in a tizzy, freaking the hell out!
One week ago, I was all Holy crap! The kids are gone! For ten days! Spackle walls! Iron curtains! Clean carpet! SLEEP IN!
And this morning? I woke up nauseous, not wanting to drive two hours to the north Georgia mountains to get the kids. I felt rotten and I'm sure it was a combination of nerves and of not drinking enough water the night before while out gorging on BBQ in the 104-degree heat. I was missing the kids terribly, but I was having a really good time rediscovering my life before kids. I wasn't sure I was ready to jump back into motherhood.
But I soldiered on (with the assistance of some dry-heaving, MickeyD's fries, and iced tea) and got vertical in the car. Luckily for me, Ty-man was completely understanding and took it easy up the mountain. I was wary about seeing the kids, wondering if I would truly be happy to see them, wondering if they would remember us, and recalling that the past week together as just Heather and Ty was so very nice.
And then we walked through the door, into the kitchen, and rounded the corner of the dining room. And there they were, all smiles and giggles, shouting Mama! Papa!, and tripping over their words as they excitedly told us about their week with Grandma and Grandpa.
We drove the Gator!
We fed the tadpoles!
We went on a hike!
We played in the sandbox!
We ate at Pizza Hut!
And on and on. And as I touched their faces, smelled their hair, and listened to their sweet, sweet voices, I knew I was so very glad to be there. So very glad to be their mother. And so very glad to be with them after a long absence.
They're home, in bed, and sleeping peacefully. My life is complete again and I'm happy. Those days of just me and Ty will return again far too soon and for now I will cherish these all-too fleeting moments of my precious children.