Sometimes I miss Dave. We live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, sit at the same table for dinner, raise the same kids. But sometimes, when things get really crazy, it's like we're strangers passing each other in the hallway with ringing headaches from screaming kids.
On a typical evening as we try to talk...me asking what he has on the agenda for the weekend and he telling me some story that happened at work, Grace is interrupting to tell me (in a very dramatic way) every detail from her field trip, Lucy's screaming for who-knows-what since she's so darn frustrated that she can't tell us, Claire's crying in the corner because she got her feelings hurt about something or other, Max is pounding on the piano, and Elle's begging for a friend to stay for dinner.
Oh, and there are the friends causing commotion too...playing tag which involves running around the house either slamming the doors or leaving them wide open (great for the air conditioning bill), needing supervision while swimming, and yelling to be heard by each other over the roar of the waterfall, fighting over who gets which princess dress-up...you get the idea. Oh, and I can't forget about that incessant ringing of that darn phone. (We don't usually get our phone, but the ringing alone causes a little bit of head-ringing.)
I love being a mother with all my heart, commotion and all. Oh how I love to kiss off those kids' cheeks and snuggle up to read bedtime stories together. But as much as I adore those kids, Dave is my Number One. My sweetheart. My lover. My best friend. And when I'm a shriveled up little old lady (as little as you can shrink to when you start out at six feet tall), I want to remember this: he was my first priority. He's the one who lights up my heart with something as little as giving me a wink across the dinner table commotion. He's the one I'd rather be with than anyone else in the world. I love you babe.