It’s Friday night and the week is ending quietly.  The dishwasher is at a low hum as it battles a week’s worth of my mess riding solo while the kids were both away at camp.  Each of the Lil’ Dubya’s were off in different directions – The Boy at our favorite summer camp about an hour away and The Girl headed east with the youth from our church for an amazing week at the beach.  Some kids have all the luck.

I’m used to having weeks without them – they spend a week at a time with their dad at least once a month.  But even during those times, I get to see them on an almost daily basis for one reason or another.  Not like this week.  Not when they’re both completely out of town and out of arms reach.  It’s very different when the house is pin drop silent for days at a time.  I’m not much for watching t.v. so it stays super quiet around here.

But now they’re home. Well, one is anyway.  The Boy came home this afternoon and is currently snuggled up in my bed watching cartoons as we both wait for The Girl’s bus to arrive back from youth camp (90 minutes late, not that I’m counting).

The madness of having a house full of their joyful noise will return shortly as well.  With them comes this electricity in the air that I can’t duplicate with my own putterings around the house, no matter how many times I step on a cat’s tail or slam a cabinet door.

It’s different.  They make it different.

They make it home.