Snuggle Bunny

Sawyer is a snuggle-er. It is quite possibly one of his favorite things to do. Back in the days when I didn't have to be out of the house before the boys woke up, Beanie and I would spend the first part of our mornings snuggling. He would wake up, come running into our room then climb into bed beside me, quite often waking me up from a coma-like sleep. Over time I grew to habitually wake early enough to wait for him to crawl into bed beside me and snuggle in close. I would wait to hear the door open and then see that blonde head come bouncing across the floor.

But lately due to a very heavy project load and an equally short deadline, I have to be up early and out of the house before the boys (and most of the civilized world) are up and about. Most weekdays I don't get to see them until I pick them up in the early evening. And I *hate* it. I totally loathe it. It makes my day start off-kilter and I wander around feeling like I have forgotten to do something important.

This past Saturday, Beanie popped into our room bright and early and said "Mommy!!! It's the weekend! You don't have to go to work and I don't have to go to school! We can SNUGGLE!!!!" And so we did. Liam (who is not normally prone to fits of snuggling) joined us a few minutes later and the three of laid there for a half hour chatting and giggling. (Daddy was already up and about).  I think Liam (aka Mr. Independent) might even admit that he misses seeing his Mom in the mornings, but not nearly as much as his mom misses seeing him.

At first Sawyer would cry when he woke up and I wasn't here. He would sit on the floor by the empty bed and cry. But sadly now, he is used to me being gone in the mornings (although he admitted to Grandma he tries to wake up early so he can see me before I go). So I try to make a game of it. I leave them a note and a quick drawing each morning so they have something to let them know I was thinking of them. Right now they seem to enjoy it. It's not much, but it is something.

Are there times when I would like to have the opportunity to sleep in past 6:30 on the weekends? Sure. But would I trade my early morning snuggles and my giggly little boy conversations about silly dreams, breakfast cereal and "gross things animals eat"? Not a chance.

Sawyer values the importance of quality Snuggle Time. Even at 5:30 at night.

Once there was a tree...

Last night, I read the boys one of my favorite books, "The Giving Tree", by Shell Silverstein. If you are not familiar with the book, it is the story of a boy and a tree. The book starts with the young boy being inseparable from the tree, but as time goes by, the boy outgrows the tree and only comes back to visit her when he wants something. The tree, although saddened by the boy's absence, finds great joy in making him happy by giving all that she can to insure his happiness–even at the expense of her own well being.

After the story, Liam asked me "Mom, what do you think that book means?"

I told him that I thought it was an analogy of being a parent. No matter how much time goes by, we will love our children unconditionally and give them anything we can in order to help them out and make them happy.

I finished tucking each boy in and Liam looked at me and said , "I think it means something different. I think, the book is trying to tell us that just when we think we have given all we can, we can always find a way to give more."

(Have I mentioned how smart my children are?)

In all of the years I have been reading that story, I have never, ever once thought of it from that perspective. I always read it and thought "look how much she gives!" and Liam read it and thought "look how much MORE she is capable of giving!" It really made me stop and think. A lot. Am I giving all that I can everyday? I know at the end of a very long day when I am tired, and cranky and confronted with all that still needs to be done, I certainly feel like I am. But have I really? Or am I merely giving out a slim ration of myself? The ration I am willing to part with?

With the beginning of this new year, I am promising to give more. And by "give more" I actually mean, be more in the present. Listen more. Laugh more. Give more of myself to the ones who really matter. The joy really is in the giving.

And the tree was happy.