Nothing special, but everything wonderful
Today was perfect. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the tantrums were tolerable.
But best of all, I really connected with my kids, in a way that I hadn’t in months.
The day started early – they all have since Little Guy moved in. But for some reason, Big Guy didn’t wake up when his brother did this morning. Which meant I got the Little Guy time I’d been missing lately.
We read “Thomas.” We worked puzzles. He stacked wooden blocks, learning what the word “tall” means and bursting into mile-wide smiles every time the tower reached new heights. We did all the gloriously mundane things I’d always dreamed of doing with my kids.
Then, while Little Guy napped, it was Big Guy’s turn. We decorated a cake – Big Guy’s contribution was an overabundance of sprinkles and thick blue squiggles of frosting plopped smack in the middle. He, too, was blue, from eyebrows to elbows, when we finished.
I learned about his wife. He’s not sure he’s going to find one, mind you, because he’s going to be a pilot, and pilots are away from home a lot.
But if he does, can she live in his room? Which was funny, since he hasn’t lived in his room since Little Guy got his big-boy bed two weeks ago.
Sure she can, honey.
No, I think she’ll want her own house. But can we come over for dinner?
Absolutely! What do you think she’ll like to eat?
Macaroni and cheese. And chocolate milk. And cupcakes.
We’ll even use the nice dishes, babes.
Big Guy didn’t want to go anywhere today, which is unusual for the kid who wakes up some mornings with a list of four places he HAS to visit. He’s been under the weather lately, though. I guess it finally caught up with him.
So we hit the back yard, where all my maternal fantasies came true.
Little Guy sat in what appeared to be a glider. To him, it obviously was a train. The “choo choo choo, WHOO WHOOs” would have given it away even if the occasional “Thomas! Crash!” didn’t.
Big Guy sat on the other side, twisting a swing in tornado spins that made me sick just watching.
Have you ever tried being mad on a swing set? It just doesn’t work. They could solve everything in the Middle East if they’d just haul everyone to a playground.
The magic worked for us today. We sat there for more than an hour, my bestest boys and me, swinging, spinning and “whoo-whooing.” No one argued, no one yelled “mine!” and no one staged a death match over a toy.
And we talked. Really talked, about important things, such as going to kindergarten (“I’ll ride a bus, you know.”) the guest list for his birthday party (“I’m not going to invite her. She put her hands on my neck at school.”) and if I was happy to see him and Little Guy when God sent them to me.
More than you’ll ever know, my little loves. More than you’ll ever know.
Today was perfect.
Copyright 2007 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.