Squeezy Hour

My fingers itched to write at my not-so-usual time this morning. I woke up, laid in bed and missed my children. I missed them this morning running into my room first thing with something funny to tell me, some surprise (both the good and bad), or maybe their snuggles they share that make the perfect start to my day. I enjoy my tiny breaks from motherhood when the boys are with their dad as I work and do my own thing. Which brings me to "squeezy hour". It's a time my little family has when they return home to me at my house after dad's. We have all missed each other. My children are to me what Gatorade is to the parched. I am usually crazed with wanting to hug them, hold them, smell them, give them lots of kisses, talk to them about their day(s).... and squeeze- the living crap out of them. It's not really an hour of this, although I would like it to be! I usually give them a warning on the phone if it's going to be a lengthy squeezy hour, but I find that they are usually in agreeance and we all miss each other just as much. Sometimes my boys will try to act like they've had enough, that little boy rebellion and playing hard to get. I admit, it's difficult to stop telling them how much I love them and squeezing the smithereens out of them but by the looks in their eyes they enjoy it just as much... and they always come back for seconds, thirds, fourths, and fifths- until they remember the wii at my house. Today, they don't know it yet... but when they walk through that door from school, it's a surprise lengthy squeezy hour.