He heard me talking in the livingroom when I got home from the airport around midnight.
And though he had been asleep for hours, his mama radar must’ve awaken him.
“Mama? Mama!” I heard him say from his crib.
I looked at my husband who gave me the, “You’re putting him back to bed” face — and I crept into his dark nursery.
I’ve never been away from my boy so long. Three days away from his pink lips and half moon eyes is too long. He sprang up as soon as he saw me.
“Mama! Mama! Mama!” he proclaimed, reaching for me with urgency.
I swooped him up from the crib and pulled him to me. He wrapped his limbs around me like a monkey — his arms tight around my neck, his little legs wrapped firm around my waist. And he hugged me.
It wasn’t the usual passive hug of a sleepy toddler — this was a strong, I-can’t-get-enough-of-you hug.
This was an “eeeeeeeeeeek!” hug with patting of the back and stroking of the skin.
We went into the livingroom and rocked and hugged for at least 10 minutes.
Every couple minutes he would stop, look me in the eyes with a big smile, and bury his head in again for another big hug.
Oh, my sweet boy. He knows how to make his mama feel loved.
Then I ate a bowl of cereal. And he sat on the kitchen counter and ate a bowl of goldfish. And we were so, so happy to be together.
It’s good to be home.