One thing noticeably absent from my basement life is our kids. The basement is usually their domain, but they’ve had to find other places to destroy play.
For most of the week, they’re being spoiled at friends’ and cousins’ houses and basically having the time of their lives. When they came back after being gone for two days, I was really looking forward to seeing their sweet faces. However, I wasn’t prepared for the emotions of being near each other but not with each other.
These are the heart-achey moments of tears I can’t comfort and little faces looking for kisses I can’t give. The other night one of the boys stood at the top of the stairs, sobbing, “I just want to be with you!” (He was better after a night of sleep.) Gigi often sighs, “I want to cuddle with you!” She compensates for the loss by coming to the top of the basement stairs numerous times a day, whistling to get my attention, and then tossing paper airplanes with affectionate messages on them down the stairs. But even her enthusiasm is wearing thin: of her latest plane, she commented, “It wasn’t a very good one, so I tossed it down to you.”
Since I’m living in the guest room, Ken’s mom, who arrived on Thursday to love on the kids for a few days, is sleeping in Gigi’s room. Gigi has gladly moved in with her daddy. About six months ago, she went through a phase of calling him “Ken” and “Dear,” just to try them out. He was amused (and quite charmed, I think), but luckily I saw through her clever ploys, so I’m keeping an eye on her this week…a figurative one, if not an actual.
Kiss your little and big people and squeeze them tightly. And if you see my kids, give them a squeeze too.
