pick-up pick-me-up

preschool pick-up is one of the highlights of my day. i get in the long line of SUVs and minivans snaking their way through the parking lot at 12:15, enjoying the last few minutes of peace and quiet as i inch forward at a snail's pace. but then ... as soon as i get past the hedge ... i strain my neck to see my children. and there they both are, holding hands with a teacher as they wait for me to pull up and open the door. liam begins to wave, and susanna clutches a wilted dandelion that she picked from the playground grass that she'll soon present to me and ask me to put behind my ear. it never gets old. i would've thought that by now, the novelty of seeing them awaiting me would have worn off; that each afternoon would blend in with the before it into a sort of monotonous routine. but no. i actually still get excited -- the second i lay my eyes on their sweet faces, i can almost feel my heart being filled up with love as if it were a physical substance. like i've been missing an important part of me, and there, a few yards away, is what i need to make me whole again. they pile in, breathlessly talking over each other as they regale me with stories of their three hours at school. "we went to chapel today and we sang 'God is so good' and it was gardner's birthday and then we did centers and i played dress-up with charlie and then we read a story about dogs --" says susanna, and as she takes a breath, liam jumps in, "we listened to a man play a tuba and he's been playing for 30 years and i gave the classroom bunny my apples because i didn't really like the red peel and we played outside and i got across all the monkey bars by myself --" and then susanna takes over, "and we made pancakes and i got to stir it in the bowl and we played vet with our stuffed animals and then we had circle time and i'm sitting on the letter C this week --" and then liam chimes in, "and davis brought in doughnuts for show & tell and my job today was to be the door holder and henry put on a doctor's coat and ms. kathy took our picture and --" and so on. this never-ending monologue (duologue?) lasts the entire drive home. and while i might squeeze in a question or two, for the most part, i just listen. joy, excitement, love ... my children radiate these as they share with me stories of their classmates and teachers and activities. no matter how crummy or stressful my morning might have been, any negativity i'd been feeling vanishes as soon as they climb into the back seat. the joy, the excitement, the love ... feelings that liam and susanna have for school. feelings that i have for my children. and feelings that the three of us share for those ten minutes a day described as preschool pick-up.