Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve been missing a thing until it comes into your life.
You might not have even thought it was possible. But on some level you were unaware of, it’s unmistakable that it is exactly what you’ve been craving. And when it sneaks into your daily existence, like a stroke of good luck or an unexpected stretch of good weather, you wonder how you ever lived without it.
You can’t help but soak it in, bask in its gloriousness, even if it feels like a guilty pleasure.
It’s been like this for me recently.
Oh how my tiny boys love me. But that’s not the unexpected part, although it delights me endlessly. No, it’s this: at least a few times each day the two argue with each other about whose mommy I am. It usually starts with Naveen elbowing Deaglan out of his way, on route to my lap.
“My Mama!” he will announce, brows furrowed, small fists at the ready.
These are always fighting words for Deaglan who hadn’t even intended to battle for such property rights that moment.
“She’s my Mommy too, right Mommy?” he looks over at me, old enough to know better yet unable to ignore the heat such a bold statement gives rise to. Often it ends in me pulling one off of the other.
“Yes, I’m both of your Mommies. Come sit on either side of me.”
Sometimes having such full arms can seem like a nuisance. It’s hard to sip coffee before it cools. It means never having my own space on the recliner or couch. And in the very early mornings, it means sharing my pillow with two growing tousled heads, elbows and knees in my ribs.
But more often it feels like I’ve arrived.
As one of seven children, I never had much expectation of such affection. I was quiet and in my head most of the time growing up. This all feels like an embarrassment of riches; a boon that will inevitably vanish back into the heavens from which it came.
So I'm doing what any lottery winner would do; grinning from ear to ear like some lucky jerk at my fortune.
We drove to a small town outside of our city to this park just for a change of pace. We rode on this train, which in truth is one step up from a child's model train.
See what I mean?