Last week Steve flew to California for work, leaving Silas and I to our own devices for six days. It's the longest that he's been away since Silas was born, only having traveled one other time for a boys' weekend with his friends last summer. Hearing my little boy say "miss daddy" every time we sat down for a meal or when he was otherwise reminded that papa wasn't home was beyond heartbreaking. A change of scenery was in order. So, we packed our bags and headed north to my parents' home for a visit. Silas got one last taste of snow, delighted in going through boxes in the basement to find some "new" toys to take home, and reveled in all the grandma love and attention.
This weekend, then, was a happy reunion. Steve arrived home late Friday night after we were in bed. When Silas awoke at 6:30 Saturday morning to nurse he stretched his legs out and when he felt Steve next to him, he looked up at me, eyes bright, and whispered, "Daddy! Daddy home!" Love. There were welcome-home pancakes, a trip to the park (which was a bit muddy due to the flash flooding that had occurred in our absence), and our favorite pizza for dinner. This whole operation really does work so much more smoothly when we're all here together.
Joining Amanda at The Habit of Being.