Maybe they should.......

I love to listen to Zachary talk to his friends when I pick him up from school. The conversations have absolutely no commonality. Z is talking about acorns, and how he is not allowed to bring them inside school. Nathan is yelling that he needs a hug RIGHT NOW. Ben is eating play doh, and yet still shouting to participate in the conversation, you just can’t tell what he is saying over the mound of yellow clay in his mouth.

Listening to 3 year old boys talk to each other is like watching commentators on FOX news. Everyone randomly shouts, no ones ideas make any logical sense, no one is listening, and their gender politics are both rigid and misogynistic. The only substantive difference is that FOX guys talk about Ironman way less.

Thankfulness

Drew

Drew………right now he is caught in this wonderful, poignant place between preschooler and Kid. Almost a kid — occasionally embarassed at hugs and kisses when I drop him at school, starting the eye rolling when I remind him to wash his hands or go to the potty, but still little enough that when I pick him up from school, as soon as I walk out the door to the playground, I hear “MOMMYYYYY!!!!!” and watch him tear across the playground at full speed to jump into my arms with enough force to almost knock me over. I have never been greeted with such joy and fervor in my life, and it is one of the very best moments of every school day. I am thankful for his cleverness (even when it works against me!), his friendliness and socialiability, the way he plays little jokes and then slyly says “Mommy, I was trick-sing you!”. We still lay down together for his bedtime, and my day is not complete until he tells me “I love you, mama, and I will see you in the morningtime”.

Zachary

Zachary……..Zak Attack! Bull in a china shop. No one who meets Zachary fails to be astounded at his sheer strength. He’s small for his age, but never was there a more solid, sturdy kid. He is happy 95% of the time, but lord help you the other 5%, for he will make his displeasure known to all within earshot. After I hear Drew’s goodnights, I eventually settle in for the night with Mr Zachary. He’s a world champion snuggler, and mostly refuses to sleep alone. He wakes up like his father — meaning cranky as hell — but after a drink and a snack he settles into his role as Mr. Happy. His recipe for joy includes snacks and crumbs of attention from Big Brother Drew. Nothing else is required.
I know it’s cliche to say how much you love your kids, and I was thinking last night as Drew and I played a game how much I just *liked* them. I like spending time with them, I like their occasionally silly little games, I like hard hugs and wet kisses and sharing the food off my dinner plate (most of the time). They humble me with their love, and I am beyond grateful to have the opportunity to return it.

Sleeping Beauties

I am just going to say it — I love sleeping with my kids. I know in a lot of circles that is something people freak out about – it seems like you either are a cosleeper, or you aren’t.

Zachary goes down to sleep alone, but Drew still wants me to lay (lie?) down with me each night. By “wants” I mean “refuses to go to bed alone”. But I am actually ok with that. Especially since Zak was born, I really relish the half hour or so we snuggle (or “smuggle” in Drew parlance) before he falls alseep. We talk about his day, we read a book or three, he tells me about his dreams or tells me a story. Then he rolls over, places my arm around him and commands me to smuggle him, and drops off to sleep. And of course, so do I, since I cannot be still for more than 10 minutes without sleeping. I wake a couple of hours later in excruciating back pain, usually just in time to hear Zak crying for me. I grab him and we retire to the recliner, where he nurses the rest of the night. About half the time, Drew joins us in the wee hours, and then it’s the three of us, crammed into a recliner built for one, a mass of tangled limbs and boppys and blankets.

I wake up in the morning with a hand or a foot or baby milky morning breath in my face, loose and warm sturdy baby boy bodies wrapped around me, and I feel content.

I often wonder if I would feel the same if I was a stay at home mom. I know that even I sometimes feel a need to get away from all the touching that is a part of being a mom to little ones, and I am sure it’s worse for moms at home with their kids all day, who have 24 hours of tugging and pulling on clothes. For me, though, I am away from them for 9 or 10 hours a day, so it’s hard for me to begrudge them sitting on my lap at dinner, crawling all over me on the floor as we play, or being unable to sleep without the dulcet tones of Mommy snoring in their ears. :P

Even on the days it feels claustrophobic – when I have a cold and can’t breathe and am fairly certain I will suffocate with Drew’s massive noggin all up in my face, or when Zak has been literally attached to me All. Night. Long. in some sort of nursing marathon — I try and appreciate that this time is so short lived. They will want me so much less as they get older, my sweet round faced little men, and by the time they are young teenagers and I am dropping them off blocks away from their intended destinations so they won’t be seen with me, I will look back and remember that there was a time that all they wanted was to be close to me, and I will never be sorry I indulged them. Or myself.

Zachary

Our honeymoon is over and it is back to Real Life. I have to go back to work tomorrow, and our little days of one on one cuddles come to an end. I will miss that so much.

You have grown SO much since we brought you home, a wee little (well, not SO little!) thing who never cried, just mewled like a cat when he was hungry, whose eyes we delighted in seeing open because it happened so rarely. Now you are really coming into your personality – you babble and talk happily all the time and the smiles and giggles are plentiful. You are such a happy little man. We prop you up in the corner of the couch and you hang out, watching your big brother’s shenanigans and occasionally getting sucked in my the mesmerizing twirl of the ceiling fan. You sleep wonderfully. I am trying not to get too cocky about that, since your brother was a great sleeper till I went back to work, too. We will see, but I’d appreciate it if you’d keep in mind that Mommy likes to sleep foe 6 or so hours in a row. She likes it a LOT.

You are going to your big brothers school, and the same ladies who watched him as a baby will have and love you. I know you will be well cared for, but I will worry and fret and think of you every second anyway.

I am going to miss you so much. Your leg chub, the little fat rolls under your baby chin, your gummy smile and laugh, your milky baby smell.