As happy as I am to have the occasional break from my three preschoolers (like this past weekend, when Grammy and Pappy had them overnight), I am equally happy to have them back again.
For the first few minutes, anyway. Because my boys are the kind that run and jump into your arms the minute they see you again. Like, oh thank goodness, you actually came back for me. It's that kind of hug, as though you've been gone for weeks instead of just a matter of hours (less than 48 this weekend).
Yesterday afternoon, I was nearly attacked. Xander gave me a big grin and a "Hi!" as soon as I walked in the door. Unfortunately for him, Connor was quicker to jump into my arms. He had a grievance to bear, that his new big boy bike was still at Grammy and Pappy's house (which he whimpered to me as though it was the end of the world, and with big tears rolling down his face). Once we overcame that, he hopped down and Xander took his place. His hug was quick and hard, followed immediately by a "Juice? Please?" request. Nevermind that he'd just had some. He was talking and made an appropriate request, so his wish was granted.
And last but not least, wandering into the kitchen where I was still trapped, was Sawyer. He grinned and ran over for a big hug. He also wanted into the pantry, of course, where suckers and other assorted goodies are kept under lock and key. But even after I told him no suckers until after dinner, he still held on a big bear hug.
Three boys. Three big hugs. What a way to come home.
Of course, it wasn't nearly as cute twenty minutes later, when all three of them were still attached at the hip (which is hard to do, but they manage it somehow).
Sigh. It's hard to be so loved.
