Missing

Missing

I’m in Chicago for a visit. I’ve been getting tons of Amy-and-her-kids-time the past two days, and it’s been wonderful.

Jack is such a sweet boy. He has trouble with input and output, but beneath that he’s sweet and smart and goofy. He and Decky had such a great time together. The way they communicate is to wrestle, jump, run and play. They grunt and laugh and yell. They get in trouble. Decky can take anything Jack can dish out, he’s such a gentle giant. And it’s clear that Jack loves him with a mighty love. It was so heart-warming to watch them together.

Livie is a princess – there’s no denying it. She is all about her fiesta dress, her crown with the green jewels, her ba-ba babies. She fights for every scrap of attention she can get, since she’s stuck in the middle of Jack and the twins. She is very creative and loving and smart. She sparkles.

Liesl is a pixie. She has a no-lip smile that pops up easily and frequently. She rolls and grabs and yells out. She knows how to get your attention with her charm. She’s engaging and sweet.

Leia is beautiful and chubby. She has a round round face and body, and she sticks her lower lip out constantly. She lives on the edge – you don’t know what will make her cry. And when she does, she’s hard to placate. But her smile is bright and sunny and well worth the effort to elicit.

Amy and John are goofy. They fly by the seat of their pants. Their house is barely controlled chaos, a subclinical frenzy. Everywhere you look, there’s a baby who needs feeding, a kid that needs watching, another who needs loving. Amy and John must fall to bed exhausted every single night. I don’t know how they manage, but they do. The babies are chubby, the kids are happy, the house is warm.

I don’t get to see these people I love often. I live far away and only get to visit a few times a year. The babies won’t know me when I come back. Each visit, I have to get past Jack’s and Liv’s reticence before I can attack them with hugs and love. It’s frustrating.

But with Amy, we just pick up where we left off. Our movements complement each other and we know each other’s thoughts. It’s hard to leave her. She could use my help with her crazy life. And I could use her – well, for a sister.

It would be so cool if we could live near each other. We could feed and watch each others kids, spontaneously go out and drink heavily without them, just hang out. That’s something I miss every day.

But we don’t get to have that. It’s a big weight I carry.

So I enjoy the hell out of her and her family while I can. Today, we’re going to a hotel to take over the pool with the kids. Tomorrow, I go back to Kansas and miss them.

And that’s how it goes.

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One thought on “Missing

  1. We all miss you so much right now. You need to send me those lyrics to that, “take it, take it, take it and just hold on tight” song. The kids keep singing it. They sing it everytime they see you. It’s your song and it comforts them to hear it.

    I love you, Sister. I love you all the way to the moon and back.

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