I get their meals ready, feed them, and then clean up after them. I arbitrate while they're playing. I get them drinks when they're thirsty and snacks when they're hungry. I watch over them when they're colouring with crayons so that we don't end up with multi-hued floor or walls or tables or chairs. I listen to J watching the ads on TV, proclaiming, "I want this toy next time, Mum", after practically every advertisement he sees. I raise my voice so that the kids will stop fighting over a toy. Or so they will stop fighting each other.
By this time, I'm tired and I'm wishing I could do some of my own reading, just not of a book with short sentences and colourful pictures. So I sit down on the couch next to the kids watching TV, book in hand, and I curl up my feet. Then courtesy of E, there's a dirty diaper to change. (Thankfully, J doesn't need diapers anymore!) So up I go again and the book's forgotten.
But I do this because the best sound in the world is the sound of J and E laughing together as they're playing. The best sight is watching J give E a sip from his cup of apple juice and then asking her, "Is that good, Mei-mei?". A close second best sight is the two of them attacking and devouring fried chicken. The best feeling is when both rush over to give me a hug. The best experience is watching them communicate. J's pretty good at expressing himself now, so he tells me if he's angry, if he thinks what I've just told him to do is a good idea ("Good idea, Mum"), if he likes a particular type of food ("Hmmm, yum"). And E's learning every day. While she may not have the verbal skills to get her feelings across, she certainly has expressions on her face to use. So she frowns at me when I tell her to do something she doesn't want to. Or she looks bashful and stops right away when I catch her dancing to some music.
It's because of moments like these that I know I'm home.
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