I can’t ever decide whether the hardest part of coming home to my family is:
a) realizing my littles do just fine without their mama and don’t pine for me the way I pine for them,
b) finding the time to mow down the legions of renegade hairs who seized some serious ground in their ongoing and determined campaign for control of my face. (Sometimes I think there aren’t enough tweezers in all the world.)
c) the way ALL FIVE of my children are SURE that I’ve DESPERATELY missed being licked.
That is all.
Glad to be home.
Still doing laundry.
Covered in slobber,
P.S. Sorry I said “still doing laundry.” That was misleading. I’m always still doing laundry.