"mom. hey moooom. mommy."
"hmm"
"mommy. It morning time. You hapt to wake up."
"mmmOkay bud. mmmhold on one sec."
"EW! Mom. You bweat is NASTY! You hapt to bwush you teeth so I don't smell it."
(Thinking to myself, little boy, have you checked your own breathe before whispering loudly into my face at 6:15 straight out of bed this morning?)
"I know it is. I'll brush them for you, don't worry. Now speak kindly please."
"I am peaking kind, but you bweat is nasty so I'm tewwing you to bwush you teeth."
"Joey, go potty and I'll get you your breakfast, ok?"
"but mooooommy!!! I don't wanna go potty!! (as he marches in place quickly)"
"You need to go. We always go when we first wake up. Please go potty and I'll meet you in the kitchen."
(Stomping away fussing loudly)
"I jut don't wanna go potty and you jut hapt to bwush you nasty teet!!"
Well good morning. Mommy's not on vacation anymore! I walk out to the front room where the dog is barking loudly with legs crossed in her kennel. This is what I get for not setting my alarm, I think to myself. Mornings go much more smoothly when I'm awake and ready for my small, dependant humans to start their day. When I decide to try and sleep in, or just put myself first in general, my kids suffer for it because I'm just focused on myself. I get frustrated and impatient when met with early morning sleepiness when I myself am still asleep. One of these days I'll fully realize that being a stay at home mom is my job. When I hit snooze on the alarm and I'm late for work, its going to cause the day to get off to a rocky start. On this day, it definitely did.
I got Joey his breakfast and it was waiting at his place on the dining room table. The whining from the bedroom moments before had traveled down the hall and into the kitchen. It then traveled from the kitchen into the dining room where it spilled soggy Rice Crispies onto the chair and floor beneath it. After breakfast it skipped over to the front room and finally quieted down.
I grabbed my coffee and sat down on the couch next to my boy. He was watching his favorite tv show and looked up to see me next to him.
"hey mom? I jut wanna cuddle wit you."
I put my arm out and he wiggled himself under my arm and tightly into my side. He melted right in like he was part of me again. He reached his tiny little hand over to hold mine.
"you can jut hode my hand, okay?"
I sat and held him close, enjoying this very rare moment that we were sharing together.
Later that afternoon, I watched as footage of the horrific bombing at the Boston Marathon was shown repeatedly on the news. People's lives changed forever in a single moment. I kept hearing the numbers repeating, 3 dead, 140+ injured. It was later that I read the unbelievable news that one of the 3 people who lost their life was an 8 year old boy. His father had just completed the race, his mother suffered a brain injury and his younger sister lost her leg. My mind cannot begin to comprehend the chaos that this one family has endured, let alone all of the people involved. Its horrific. Little Martin will never return home with his family, as well as the other 2 people who lost their lives.
As a parent, you can't help but watch these stories and think of your own children. My Joey. If I were to lose my boy today, what would our last moments together be? Would I be short with him and impatient? Frustrated over, literally, spilled milk? I know better, we all do. Life is short, its fragile. We all know this, but keeping that in mind at all times is a challenge to me. I get caught up in stinky breath, accidents, temper tantrums, and more. I get tired and want a break, I put myself first. I think, I want to sleep in, or take a long and quiet morning shower. But truthfully more than anything, I want my baby boys to know that Mommy loves them more than anything else in the world. I have to be better at showing that to each of them. Jumping out of bed and having a teeth brushing party, making clean up at breakfast a game, whatever it is. Each moment needs to be treated as if it were one of the very last that we'll share together.
. . .
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