Wednesday, September 6, 2006


I miss my kids.

It's funny what makes me miss them. I went to a tournament this past weekend and watching the kids running around in their uniforms didn't bring pangs to my heart. It could've been my own nerves. A guy in my class flew his family out for the weekend and I watched from the 4th floor as they swam in the pool. That didn't make me miss them much, either. Funny.

Just a few minutes ago I heard a baby crying. Hard. I went out to the balcony and there was a mother on the lawn behind the hotel rocking her baby that was clearly not too happy. The baby's older sister was playing in the grass beside them. My heart broke.

I was watching "Lost" on DVD last night and the baby on the show had some kind of fever and was screaming at the top of his lungs. That made me miss my kids.

SW relayed to me that during his TKD class last night the instructor failed to call on Cowboy fast enough and he left a puddle on the floor. The thought that he waited with his arm raised, instead of getting up to go to the bathroom, coupled with the embarrassment he must've felt, made me miss my son incredibly.

It's funny-I see kids running around and I obviously miss my family, but it's when I see kids in distress that I miss them the most. I'm not sure why.

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