8/365 - My Lovelies

My children have the ability to bring out the most extreme emotional responses in me. I know I'm not alone in experiencing this phenomenon, but damn, it's a good thing there's yoga and friends and neighbors and wine and forgiveness and mandatory quiet time and unconditional love. I rely on more than one of those lifesavers most days and wine usually every day.

One or two of my lovelies often make their way into my bed at night, but this morning I opened my eyes and stretched out all by my gloriously lonesome self for a change. Then I rolled over and looked at the clock, and realized with extra glee that it was past 9am! Not long after that, my boy Quinn padded down the hall and climbed in for a snuggle. Lucy Lu wasn't far behind, and when Sophie climbed in, I was the happiest mom on earth. Morning snuggles on the weekend with my lovelies after a great night of sleep are the best! They're all squishy and warm and give me hugs and kisses and giggle and don't even notice my dragon breath.

Of course, my revelry lasted about as long as it took for everyone to tromp downstairs. There was complaining about what to have for breakfast and arguing over whose turn it was to have the red plate and bickering about how to make a Lego truck the right away and hurt feelings because so and so "called me a poopy butt" and saying it wasn't fair that she got to wear a fancy dress and crying over spilled milk that dripped through the crack in the table which the cats licked up and no doubt will give them diarrhea and whining because he got a bigger piece of cake never mind that she didn't even end up eating all of hers and the intentional dumping of the entire contents of my shower gel on the bathroom rug, and.... I was grateful for the hour or so they spent playing at the neighbor's house, during which time I finished the dishes, rearranged and vacuumed the living room, started the laundry, and spent the last 10 minutes enjoying the relative cleanliness and breathing deeply in and out very slowly in preparation for the undoing that would ensue upon my lovelies' return home.

The truth is, they aren't always home wreckers. In fact, they're really cool kids - smart, funny, imaginative, wise, and thoughtful, and I am so lucky I get to be their mom.

Lucy, my cherished bringer of light, is such a ham - She cracked me up with her bagel goggles at breakfast this morning. And when she returned home from the neighbor's house and walked into the temporarily pristine living room, she exclaimed with all sincerity, "Oh, Mom, the living room looks so, so pretty! Did you do all this? I love it!"

Quinn tells me he loves me about a hundred times a day, usually like this: "I love you, Mom." I love you too, Quinn. "I love you more." I love you most, Quinn. "I love you infinity, infinity, infinity, infinity, infinity beyond and three hundred billion trillion googleplex stars, Mom!" I can't top that, Buddy, you love me most.

Sophie, bless her sensitive heart, is always trying to make up for the stress and mess in our lives. We disassembled Christmas at our house today, which meant the living room was a disaster zone of ornaments and decorations, along with the usual in sundry bits and pieces of toys and games and socks and general disarray. While I was wrestling the tree downstairs, Lucy decided to build a "kitty house" in the vacant space, so cushions were pulled off the couch and a menagerie of tiny toys were brought in "for the kitties to play with." I was less than enthusiastic about her project: "Can't you see I'm trying to clean up in here!!!" So, while I was hauling a box of ornaments to the basement, I came back up to find Sophie putting away toys and cleaning up all by herself, without prompting.

The shower gel incident is what really put me over the edge tonight. I had just cleaned the bathroom and had not intended to do so again anytime soon, but Quinn obviously had other plans while I was bouncing back and forth between bath zones. I confess I lost my temper when I discovered the mess and heard the words, "but I was pretending..." When I told Quinn how angry I was with him, he said, "but you still love me, right Mom?" Yes, Quinn, I love you. I will always love you, even when I'm angry. "So that means if you're very, very, very angry, you still love me very, very, very much?" That's right, my son. I will love you no matter how angry I am. Sophie and Lucy volunteered some hugs after that, and then we all ended our day with the same squishy snuggles that started it.

And here they are now, sleeping like angels...



...my very own angels that teach me humility, make me rely more on prayer, help me appreciate the power of forgiveness, and show me how to love unconditionally. You don't get at all of that when it's neat and tidy and quiet all the time.