A few moments later, the oldest one shluffs through the room in PJs, doing some ultra heavy breathing (hooooo paaaahhhh hoooooo paaaahhh) because her headphones are in and cranked to a decibel level that prevents you from hearing your own breath (I think of it as awake snoring, or 'vader'ing). She reaches into the fridge and pockets something before heading back in the direction of her room. I try to ask her something as she goes up the stairs but she can't hear me over her iTunes. The two tiny humans and I team up and yell her name together, as loud as we can, to get her attention. It's a no go and we give up. Plus, now my throat hurts and I can't remember what I was going to ask anyways.
Even though pregnancy number three’s side effects included a weird skin crawling reaction to food noises that never went away, I quell the urge to let out an aggravated AAAAAARG! as I sit at my kitchen workstation trying to concentrate. My mind wanders. Count to 30 and they'll all be cute again. When does summer camp start again? I need coffee.
Minutes later, the winds change again. The tiniest human in the house (she completes me), sees me trying to focus on work, clicking my mouse and typing half phrases that make no sense. She gets up, comes over, hops into my lap and gives me a big fat kiss and huge hug. With no alterior motive other than my happiness, she tells me she loves me. She is innocence and sunshine and love all rolled into one tiny human. The teenager resurfaces, unplugged and feeling talented, to show off her latest art masterpiece (and it really is, as always, a masterpiece). Fleeting thoughts of her turning that talent into riches run through my mind. I turn around to see the sweetest boy alive flash me his dimples and that eye-sparkle that I love. And that's when I realize I'm back. Because in this moment, that's really all it takes to have the best possible day in the life of a working-from-home exec mom on summer break. #justsaying