But until that happy day around the corner when he pulls up in the moving truck, we are here in our empty house plus an antique piano and a plethora of toys, enjoying its emptiness and the doing of whatever we want throughout. In fact, I'm quite sure the kids prefer it this way. Last night Tyson was putting the kids to bed and I was in the backyard messing around with the sprinkler settings and watering a few patches of grass with our new garden hose, of which I already love so dearly, and I just stood and watched them through the windows. They moved from the kitchen, through the living room, up and down the stairs, and into the bedroom. Tyson with a wad of jammies and toothbrushes in his hand, chasing our naked babes in a fit of giggles throughout their very own space, completely unimpeded. It was the happiest.
And I swear I'll never stop crying, I'm just so so grateful that we're home.