The Littlest Things

I am the mother of two boys. Two VERY active boys. One will wear me down with nonstop chatter ("So Mommy, this book calls the story "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" but this OTHER book just calls it "Goldilocks..." I think it should be "Goldilocks and the Three Bears and NOT just "Goldilocks", because if you just say "Goldilocks" then you are missing the "three bears" part and I think that the "three bears" part needs to be in the title because if you don't put the three bears part in there then how do you know you have the right story??. Right Mommy? RIGHT???") and the other will wear me down with nonstop movement and defiant boundary testing. (Oh so she wants me to go HERE...so I will instead go THERE. And I will do it with great speed and tenacity. Then when she gets close to me, I will go the opposite way).

And OH how I love them. How I look forward to seeing their sweet, gorgeous faces even early in the morning when I would rather be seeing the inside of my eyelids. When I return after a long day I am usually greeted enthusiastically. It almost makes being gone all day worth it. Yesterday when I came home Sawyer threw himself into my arms with a "Huggy" and said "Mommy!! I Mitt(ss)ed you today!" Even as a 2 year old, he gives the best hugs. When they give me these ferocious, unsolicited squeezes it is all I can do to let go of them. I want to keep them close to me for as long as I can. I want to breathe in their little boyness and kiss their heads and never let go. I want to take advantage of the fact that for right now, they need and want me near them. In time, I know they will start pushing back. Needing and wanting less of my attention. Less of my hugs. And that is and forever will be, the hardest part of parenting. Knowing when to hold them close and knowing when to let them go.

But for now, I am going to reap it for all that its worth.