Baby blues

My kids have the blues.
Every morning when I leave home, I see my baby girl standing at the window sobbing and mouthing mama. I know she's calling me, but I can't hear her through the window and the blaring stereo as I speed away to the world of sanity.
This is after I pry my boys off of my legs and remind them that I go to work every day and come home every night. Normally after circling the block a few times getting up the nerve to go home and face the chaos . . .er, music, but still, I go home.
They still have the fun parent, The Man, home with them every day. So you figure they'd be shooting rainbows out their arses with joy to see me gone.
Nope. they mope. They whine. They steal the phone when I call home to "chat."
Yesterday's chat consisted of Bug telling me to, "Blagger blagger boop and booh" whatever the hell that means!
Normally they are tattling on each other or on their father, which works out well in my book.
But, back to my original point, they only miss me when I'm leaving. When I'm home, they are all over their dad and wanting their dad --or to be fed, watered, walked, and washed!--not me.
But the Man reports the opposite during the daytime hours.
So I've decided, I'm my children's favorite parent when I'm not around, and the same goes for The man.
But at least we're in the running.
Right?