Mushy

I’m feeling a little mushy tonight, and mostly it’s because of this huge love I feel for my two sons.  I’m so loving the people they’re becoming, so enjoying the little boys that they are.  This morning I woke up when Kai, my four-year old, climbed into bed to snuggle.  I drifted back off to sleep and woke up later when I heard Colin, my six-year old, rustling about.  Kai had gotten up after I had fallen back to sleep, and had gone downstairs to play quietly by his self.  Not quite ready to get up, I rolled over and picked up the book that I’ve been reading.  When Colin peeked in, he saw me reading, then trotted off to grab his own book.  Together we read quietly for the next fifteen minutes or so.  After he had worked his way through a few pages of the literary masterpiece that is Captain Underpants, we decided it was time to get up, and we made our way downstairs together to get breakfast started.  It was a great beginning to the day.

I love that my boys are so snuggly.  So engaged, so creative, so smart, so thoughtful.

This evening I dropped Colin off at his first ever sleepover party.  He seemed a little nervous, but mostly excited.  Me, on the other hand, I felt a bit sad.  I drove home and found my husband nursing his cold, crashed out on the sofa in front of the TV.  Kai and I sat down for dinner, and while he didn’t seem to be missing his big brother one bit, to me it felt like we were missing something, someone.  I know he’s just a few blocks away, probably close to sleeping now, after a fun evening of games, pizza, cupcakes, and a movie, but still, I miss him.

I feel a little pang everytime I think of that saying, “A daughter’s a daughter for all of her life.  A son is a son ’till he takes a wife.”  And while I have no intention of crossing that dysfunctional stalkeresque line depicted so well in that inexplicably popular children’s story book I’ll Love You Forever — Seriously?  The elderly mom is shown driving across down with a ladder strapped on the roof of her station wagon so she can climb into the bedroom window of her adult son and quietly rock him in her lap while he’s sleeping?  I can’t be the only one who thinks this is just plain freaky… — I totally understand the urge to want to hold them close for as long as possible.

image from www.tippiepics.com (photographer extraordinaire)