I want to know: What kind of keys was she planning on putting on that "hot" keychain? Or is a "hot" mustang next on the list??
Let's not plant any seeds, OK?
With that, she promptly got me going on my next project. Just the rebound I need. I have a good history with rebounds. I married my last one, you know...but that's another post entirely.
As I recover from the slap in the face my parenting journey just dealt me this weekend, I suspect this sentimental look at motherhood is a fix I sorely need today. I also expect it will be accompanied by its own fair share of tears on my part, as its timing is right on the heels of the sad culmination of a book I'd been reading. Needless to say, any tears shed at this late hour, won't be the first of the day.
According to Her Bad Mother, I'm supposed to share with you five trinkets of motherhood I would love to tuck away in the safety of the box my grandmother gave me years ago, alongside a two dollar bill and locks of baby hair. Then, as the ritual goes, I'm supposed to tag five more mothers who blog - so they can continue this virtual journey around the world in "80 clicks".
Alright, buckle up, folks. This boat is setting sail.
1. I love to watch them sleep, cuddled together like kittens. Their long, thick lashes lay softly in perfectly neat little semi-circles against their smooth, milky skin. Their little lips - pink painted on with the tiniest, delicate brush. Their breathing smooth until they flail and rustle in their sleep. Arms flopping all over one another. Their slumber too deep to be disturbed.
2. I love the glee in riding with the windows rolled down. As tiny babies, the wind made them catch their breath. Now, as they grow, the more refreshing and invigorating the wind is to them. We drive shamelessly through town, singing at the top of our lungs, dancing like mad women, uninhibited by onlookers in the next lane. I am transported back in time to my high school days - driving around town in a red mustang with my best friend - behaving the same.
3. I love playing on the floor with them. We don't just do puzzles or play Barbies. We rollick and roll -- we do cartwheels and jump on the mini-trampoline and sing and dance and play "break-break" and airplane and they squeal and scream as I hold them upside down above me while they cling to my legs. We hide eggs in the house in June and even November. We paint on the glass door. We squirt each other with the hose. We sing songs. We laugh until we cry and sometimes wet our pants.
4. I love to talk to them. I love to hear their thoughts. Their tales. Their perspective on the world around them. I want to crawl inside their heads and see what goes on in there. I want to watch the movie of their day from where they stood. Then, I'd slide down into their chests and study their hearts. And before I climb back out again, I'd hold it. I'd hug it. I'd cradle it and cry over it. There is nothing so precious to me in this world. My baby's heart. My heart.
5. I love seeing them everyday. I love their companionship. I love their smiles. Their hugs. Their kisses. Their grumps. Their fusses and whines. I love their presence in my home and in my life. I love hearing them in the backseat. I love seeing them in my rearview mirror. I love that my television is perpetually on Disney, pillows never stay where they're put, books are never reshelved, blankies are on my kitchen floor, sticker charts hang on the bathroom door, small furniture is in every room of my house, and my refrigerator, my desk, my bedside table, my car, my walls, and my heart is decoupaged with their smiles.
I love being a mom. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Your turn. Go. Wallow in it.
Be sure to come back and share your link.
Oh my, that post left me teary-eyed. I'm a little too vaklempt to compose a coherent thought other than to say you sound like a fun and wonderful Mommy.
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