I got home from an overnight business trip just after the kids were in bed last night. T had just come downstairs when I walked in the door. He indicated that the kids knew I was home, because as he was rocking The Girl she said “Mommy’s Home!” when she heard the door open. He told her that maybe I would come up and check on her before she fell asleep. I made my way upstairs to unpack, and as soon as I flicked on the bedroom light, I heard a chorus of “Mommy” from the kids’ respective bedrooms. I finished unpacking and went into The Boy’s room first, knowing that he would be the easier to deal with. I gave him a hug and a kiss told him that I’d missed him, and said goodnight. He actually let me leave his room with no calls for one more cuddle. I went into The Girl’s room next, and she popped up and demanded to be rocked, which of course I agreed to. As I sat in the glider rocking her, The Boy appeared in her room and told me that he needed me to tell him a story. I told him that he’d already read stories with T and that he needed to go to sleep, but he persisted. He didn’t want to read a book; he wanted me to tell him a story about Him and his sister. I agreed, and quickly made up a story about the two of them, and their wild adventures. At the conclusion of the story I put The Girl down in her crib, and walked The Boy back to his bedroom, and they both went to sleep.
I went back downstairs after they were in bed, and chatted with T for a few minutes. We caught up on the kids, work, and household stuff I’d missed. It felt so good to be home. Most of my major work deadlines of late have been met, and for the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like I should be doing something more productive with my time. It felt great for about 2 hours. Now I’m bored.