I miss the way Lily "helps" in the kitchen. I miss tripping over the stool she stands on, wiping up the extra spills and hearing her say "oopsie" when the mess happens...and believe me, the mess will happen.

I miss the way Luke tells me he's "starbin" for "brekstas" but then doesn't eat a bite, only to actually be hungry an hour later, when he's "brekstas" is cold or soggy.

I miss the way Lily acts surprised when I say "Yes" to her request, whatever it may be, like a snack, outside time, etc...as if she is a deprived child who rarely experiences joy.

I miss the way Luke says "Woo-hoo" when Lily shares the good news about my affirmative response to her various requests. Woo-hoo, high pitched and excited, never fails.

I miss hearing Lily recite the prayer Luke learned in preschool, with one eye open and one hand on her dinner fork, as she waits to hear his complaint.

I miss Luke fussing over the prayer, calling it "his prayer" as if he's the first child to have ever learned the "God Our Father" blessing song.

I miss Lily asking me to tell her "good dreams" before she falls asleep.

I miss Luke telling me he loves me "to God and back eight hundred and sixty-nine million times." That's a lot of lovin'.

I miss Lily stepping out of her room nightly to tell us it's "smokin' hot" in there and she just can't sleep. The upstairs is much warmer than down, but rarely "smokin" and she's usually asleep within the next five minutes.

I miss Luke telling me his room is too dark and scary, even though his Lightening McQueen night lite brightly illuminates the room, and light is still peeking through the blinds on these long summer days.

I miss Lily's rare, but heart felt, hugs and kisses.

I miss Luke's frequent, can't-get-close-enough, hugs and kisses.

I miss the way Lily acts coy when her daddy walks in the door, as if it's no big deal, even though she's so excited to see him. I often do the same thing.

I miss the way Luke doesn't bother with coyness and shows unabashed excitement at his daddy's arrival each evening.

I miss my kids.