Home again, home again

I was away for a week to Cincinnati for work. It was a busy and productive week. In addition to work, I had dinner with a friend and then, just before I left, Michelle was kind enough to drive into town for dinner and drinks and gabbing. We had cheese whiz foam. It was fancy. (And there is no sarcasm there. If you have a chance to go to Local 127 on Vine, you should.)

I came home late Friday afternoon and waited happily in my favorite chair for my favorite boys.

They came home with big smiles and even bigger hugs for me. Being the one they come home to, as opposed to the one herding them in the door, is lovely. The Lad threw his arms around my neck and patted my back with his little hands. He mussed my hair and squeezed my cheeks and kissed my face, just like I do his. "I love you, Momma."

And then, The Boy gave me the pictures they made for me. I already had discovered them -- and bawled with pride when I did -- but I let him "surprise" me with them all the same. The only thing better than the notes was the pride on his face showing them to me. One said, "FROM RHYS MAMA LOVE." Then, there was this one.

"MAMA YOU R GREAT I MISSED YOU LOVE RHYS"

The husband helped him with the spelling, but said The Boy knew exactly what he wanted to say. That thing underneath the words is my hotel, The Boy said. 

We had a lazy weekend with beer and wine and new dinner recipes from "Dinner: A Love Story," which is one of my very favorite blogs and now is quickly becoming my favorite cookbook. I bought a new purse because loading mine up for pack-muling for airline travel destroyed it and played baseball with the boys. The husband stayed up watching the baseball game Saturday night and just before we went to bed, in the bottom of the ninth, Sleepwalking Beastie showed up. 

Ignore my extra chins and lovely expression. It was nearly bedtime and I was laughing so hard I was crying. He didn't respond to anything until 30 seconds after the Reds won and they shot off fireworks. In a much delayed reaction he said, "OH! Fireworks." And then we bundled him back to bed. 

Lest you think it was all sunshine and lollipops around here, let me tell you I've done half a dozen loads of laundry and cleaned up the playroom at least that many times. And that same little Beastie went to bed before 7 p.m. tonight after throwing toys, yelling and trying to bite me when I chided him for his tantrum. 

Still, it's pretty nice to be home.