One of the things that I've been obsessing about lately is wondering if my kids know how much I love them. But really, until they're parents, there's no way for them to know anyways. Doesn't stop me from asking them repeatedly, however.
Like a few minutes ago, I hollered through the house for Suzi to get up from her nap - if she sleeps past 2:00, she's up WAY too late that night.
"Time to get up, booger buns!"
She grumbles, so I repeat myself.
"I'm puppy!," she yells back to me, so I call for her instead, "Come here, puppy!," complete with whistles.
She and both dogs happily come running to me, and I curl up with her on the couch. We cuddle for a few minutes, I tell her she's stinky and she curls up her nose and tells me I'm stinky too, then I ruffle her wispy, sleep-sweaty blonde hair and say, "Do you have any idea how much your mommy loves you?"
She stretches lazily across my lap with a big grin on her face, my heart swells, then she says, "Yeah."
Well, as long as it's a positive answer, I guess I'm still doing okay.