Tonight I cried after I tucked my kids in bed. I've been doing a lot of that lately because of Grandpa, but tonight wasn't about him - it was about the kids.
I told the kids to each pick a book and we'd read before bed. This used to be a regular thing, but since Grandpa moved in with us...not so much. I'm usually so exhausted and overwhelmed that I just want everyone to go to sleep so I can have some alone time and write.
I set it all aside, though, tonight. We set a chair in front of the boys' bunk bed, and three of us cuddled on the bed while one of us took turns reading from the chair.
God, how I missed that.
Tyler and Alex had just had baths, and their perfumed hair tickled my nose. Jackson had gone straight to pajamas, and he smelled like boy and dirt and that indefinable scent that is just him. I buried my face in his hair, rubbed Alex's back, and cuddled Tyler in my lap as Hannah read her book choice to us.
Then Jackson read The Giving Tree, and I got to rub my daughter's feet while Jackson did his best tree impression (thank God she's not too old to snuggle). Then I got the pleasure of watching the four of them cuddle up together while I read Ray Romano's Raymie, Dickie, and the Bean, and If I Built a Car.
My kids are freaking hilarious. And smart, too. Have I mentioned that? They were a balm for my battered soul.
I'm sorry, guys, for not making more time for you lately. That is over. We're going to be reading every night, making smores, and frosting cupcakes. You're already so grown up! I don't want to miss another second.
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