Friday, November 18, 2011

Bedtime for Bozos

M has a sweet soul.  He calls me back into the room multiple times after our good night routine of books, prayers, rousing rendition of "I've been Working on the Railroad", tuck ins and kisses.  He doesn't want water.  He doesn't want to use the bathroom.  He wants "one more kiss and hug, because he just loves my kisses and hugs the best."  Usually as I am pulling the door closed after this round of kisses and hugs, he says quickly "Mommy?  Best friends forever." 
The thought that a day will come that I don't hear those sweet words makes me panicky.  That very thought gives me the same physical sensation you get when you realize you've misplaced a kid, or that cut may actually need stitches.  You know that feeling?  A little light-headed, giant lump in your throat, tightening of stomach muscles, weak knees?  You feel that too, right?  Don't you?

That last paragraph may be my cry for help.

1 comment:

  1. All the time--I feel this all the time. Sometimes, that thought is my last attempt at salvaging patience. Something like: "One day, these 3 children who are climbing all over me and clamoring for my attention will want NOTHING to do with me". It briefly makes me feel better and then I go, "wait a minute..." (insert lump in throat)