Wednesday, July 29, 2015


We're halfway through summer vacation, and I love this time of year.  I hate being hot, but I hate even more waking up early to get children to school by 8am.  It's been a slow sort of summer so far, excluding bursts of guests and family reunions.  At this exact moment, everyone in the house is reading a book as ham sandwiches melt in the oven.  The kitten naps on the table.  The dog is asleep on my husband's shoes, his favorite bed.

We have been installed a sort of routine of waking up whenever we wake up, the kids doing two pages of workbooks so their brains don't atrophy, then whatever comes our way.  The end.  Lots of trips to the library.  Both kids have earned their summer reading t-shirts.

This morning I was getting ready to head out and enjoying a quiet moment by myself upstairs to pee. As usually happens when I dare to pee upstairs, my son comes tromping up the stairs calling my name.  It exasperates me usually that his questions can't wait until I'm out of the bathroom, so I was bracing myself to fuss at him for not giving me peace.

I came out, opened my bedroom door, and saw him standing there quietly.  I bit my tongue, holding back the lecture I was preparing in my head about leaving me alone when I'm in the bathroom.  I'm glad I did because in that moment of silence, he stepped towards me, rested his head on my belly, stuck his thumb in his mouth, put his other arm around my middle and said quietly, "Mama."

Be still my heart.  I love being mama.

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