My husband hears I love you from our kids way more than I do.
When my husband leaves for work, he goes through the sweetest routine. Scooping up my daughter in a giant bear hug, he squeezes her tight. She bends forward and he plants a kiss on her forehead. Then he hugs and kisses our son and me. Once he’s made it through everyone in our family, including the dog, our daughter runs back demanding another hug. She’s first and last. “Bye” and “Love you too” trail his back like confetti.
There have been moments with my son where I love you’s have turned into ten minute long battles as they go back forth, our three-year-old refusing to be outdone. Stools will be pushed into place below the window, and tiny fingers will grip the molding as round blue eyes watch my husband leave.
Every night, the routine repeats itself. Hugs, kisses, and more hugs and more kisses. Our daughter comes first and last. Choruses of “Goodnight” and “Love ooh” follow him up the stairs.
The truth is, sometimes I think he hears “I love you” from our kids more than I do.
His time with them is more limited than mine. Every morning he’s up before the sun, pulling on his uniform and heavy boots. He works hard, and comes home to children clamoring for his attention. He spends weekends with our kids crawling all over his lap, their sweet voices vying for his attention.
Last night, I told my daughter “I love you” three times before she responded. I tell my children I love them multiple times a day. It’s so second-nature it’s like breathing.
They usually don’t say it back, but that doesn’t mean they love me any less.
I feel it when my daughter wraps her chubby arms around my neck, planting wet kisses on my cheeks.
I recognize it when my kids proudly hold up pictures scribble in marker, handing them to me as we decorate the fridge.
I see it when they follow me from room to room, crying and whining whenever I try to go to the bathroom by myself.
I hear it when my son asks me over and over to “Sit on my bed for four minutes, Mom,” every night as he goes to sleep.
I may not hear “I love you” as much as my husband, but I experience it.
As a momma, I live in their love every day.
When they cry and run to me,
When they laugh and reach for me,
When they run and collapse on me,
When they sleep and press their faces against me,
I am content to spend the rest of my life abiding in that love.
So it's okay if I don't hear it- because I always feel it.
