Well, I'm back! I may have hung out the train waving to the Ongolian kids as soon as the train pulled into town, and I may have sprinted up the stairs to see my baby girls who were home from preschool. I may have given a thousand kisses and hugs as each child got home from school, telling each one how much I missed them and love them. I am happy to be back.
I may have also come home to finding my refrigerator unplugged and consequently very moldy, with the devastating loss of my Christmas pepperoni. (Don't judge until you live somewhere without mega grocery stores!) I may have only 2 ayahs for all 20 of my children, which is just a disaster waiting to happen. I may be wearing a shirt covered in snot from my 4 year old. I may have blackened feet from walking across the street without my flip flops because I just might be a little too Indian for my own good. I may already be feeling super sexy from my preschooler doing my hair this morning, and the knowledge of the inevitable: that lice will most definitely be in my hair by tonight. I may have painfully woken up at 5 am to discover my children decided to start waking up before the sun while I was gone, and I may have successfully yelled from the street to one daughter on the fourth story balcony who was taking her sweet time getting to the car this morning.
And all of that just may not matter. Even though part of me wants to hang my head and ask WHYYYY I love this life; why I chose to leave that beautiful, serene island; why in the world do my children think the morning starts when the moon is out; and why and how in the world can I call this home....none of it can compare to those hugs and kisses I have gotten nonstop. None of it can compare to the prayers I got to share with the older girls last night. None of it can compare to my baby crying when I walked away from her to take a nap because she just wanted to didn't want to be away from me. None of it can compare to the love I have for my daughters, none of it can compare with Phoebe wanting to hear every detail of my trip to "China" (Thailand, Chennai, China, same to same!) and then telling me that I can never leave again, "ever." And unfortunately, none of it can compare to the devastation I saw in Honor's eyes when I sat them all down and told them that I will be staying in America when I go back in June. They really love me. I mean, I knew they depended on me, but they really love me. My daughters really love me, and I am so happy to know it. It breaks my heart, too, since I know there is an end to this time, but I am thankful for their love. I love them, and that is what makes this all worth it. Mold, snot, lice, cold bucket showers, no electricity, whatever. Bring it on. Because these next five months are something I'm going to treasure.
I may have also come home to finding my refrigerator unplugged and consequently very moldy, with the devastating loss of my Christmas pepperoni. (Don't judge until you live somewhere without mega grocery stores!) I may have only 2 ayahs for all 20 of my children, which is just a disaster waiting to happen. I may be wearing a shirt covered in snot from my 4 year old. I may have blackened feet from walking across the street without my flip flops because I just might be a little too Indian for my own good. I may already be feeling super sexy from my preschooler doing my hair this morning, and the knowledge of the inevitable: that lice will most definitely be in my hair by tonight. I may have painfully woken up at 5 am to discover my children decided to start waking up before the sun while I was gone, and I may have successfully yelled from the street to one daughter on the fourth story balcony who was taking her sweet time getting to the car this morning.
And all of that just may not matter. Even though part of me wants to hang my head and ask WHYYYY I love this life; why I chose to leave that beautiful, serene island; why in the world do my children think the morning starts when the moon is out; and why and how in the world can I call this home....none of it can compare to those hugs and kisses I have gotten nonstop. None of it can compare to the prayers I got to share with the older girls last night. None of it can compare to my baby crying when I walked away from her to take a nap because she just wanted to didn't want to be away from me. None of it can compare to the love I have for my daughters, none of it can compare with Phoebe wanting to hear every detail of my trip to "China" (Thailand, Chennai, China, same to same!) and then telling me that I can never leave again, "ever." And unfortunately, none of it can compare to the devastation I saw in Honor's eyes when I sat them all down and told them that I will be staying in America when I go back in June. They really love me. I mean, I knew they depended on me, but they really love me. My daughters really love me, and I am so happy to know it. It breaks my heart, too, since I know there is an end to this time, but I am thankful for their love. I love them, and that is what makes this all worth it. Mold, snot, lice, cold bucket showers, no electricity, whatever. Bring it on. Because these next five months are something I'm going to treasure.
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