Friday, February 11, 2011

The Best Part of My Day

My commute to work in the morning is long, but my commute home always seems much longer.  I find myself racing the clock...can I get there quicker today than I did yesterday?  If I make these lights I'll beat my best time.  Maybe there's a shorter route, a quicker cut-through, a less traveled path.  I'm always trying new roads, new ways, new directions all to get to the same place.

In the evening the radio station is replaying the exact same talk show I listened to that morning, so normally it's just background noise that fills the silent air.  My mind wanders to chores that need to be done that night, what I'm making for dinner, bills that need to be paid, things that need to be done in the Richmond house...but mostly I think about them.  I think about the moment that I see them.  It's always the best part of my day.

Ainsley will be telling her teachers stories of our plans for the night.  She'll go into great detail about visiting aunts and uncles or dance class or going to Richmond.  Freddie will be with a toy.  Pushing it, shaking it, pounding it or whatever is most fun and loud to do with that particular toy.  Then they'll see me and they'll drop whatever they're doing and make their way to me.

Those thoughts push me to get there sooner.  They're the reason I hate the traffic and curse the other drivers.  My life with them is crazy and hectic and forever on the move...but any time I spend away from them, I spend missing them.

I park along the curb and walk up the driveway to the large house on the corner.  This is where they spend most of their day.  I let myself in and slip off my shoes...no shoes allowed in the daycare portion of the house.

I walk down the stairs and I hear them before I see them.  They are happy, I hear it in their voices and laughter.  I emerge into the spacious basement.

Hi Ainsley!


MOMMY!!!!


She runs to me and wraps her thin arms around my upper thighs.

Did you have a good day? I ask.

By this time Freddie hears my voice and he is squealing like we rarely hear him laugh.  He toddles toward me, faster every day.

Hi Freddie! I say as I scoop him up and give his soft, squishy cheek a big kiss.  He giggles and wraps his chubby arms tightly around my neck.

The three of us are one giant hug of laughter and love.  Yes, this is definitely the best part of my day.
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