Pancakes for Sunday Dinner

I went to Texas this past weekend - Thursday through Monday - to do some house-hunting, leaving my kids under the competent care of my baby sister Rachelle with help from my cousin Kristy.  Besides a house that had to be kept immaculate (there was a showing on Saturday), they were faced with five children and a complicated schedule.  Three basketball games, school drop-offs & pick-ups, church, play dates, birthday parties.  I left detailed schedules, maps, menus, and cash.  

My time in Texas was a much-needed break, but I was anxious to get back to my babies on Monday.   After all, they need their mom.

First thing Caleb said when he saw me was, "Mom!  Aunt Rachelle is here!"

The other kids reluctantly accepted my hugs while filling me in on the details of their super-fun weekend, which included In-n-Out Burger, Chili's, Nicklecade, Wii, movies.  Oh, and pancakes for Sunday dinner.

The real truth is, they don't need me like they used to.  No tears when I left, no "I missed you SO MUCH" when I got home.  Made me nostalgic for the days of cuddling babies and constantly picking up after toddlers.  Made me wish I could somehow relive a day where they all needed me desperately and missed me terribly when I wasn't around.

That evening, I wrangled with:  homework assignments, Family Home Evening, piano practicing, discussing the earthquake in Haiti, reminding certain kids to be nice to each other, family prayer, bedtime routines (two of which still involve at least some form of cuddling), chatting with teenagers.

As I thought about my day, it dawned on me that my kids still need me (although perhaps not desperately).  And there's a possibility that they may have even missed me (although perhaps not terribly).

Caleb just asked me today when Aunt Rachelle is coming back.  I mean, really, who can compete with pancakes for Sunday dinner?