Me: "Who has the best seat in the house, me or daddy?"

Adam: "Well, Daddy's is nice, but yours is best. Your's is squishier."

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Fruits of my Labors

I've noticed that as my kiddos get older, they don't need me to be a hands-on mama so much any more.  We've evolved from the bum-and-nose-wiping, lap-napping and owie-kissing kind of relationship, to the homework-helping, high-five-ing, peck-before-bed-ing type.  As I often lament here in posts, their childhoods are going by at warp-speed, and I can't seem to find the cosmic brakes.

I decided recently to look for ways to make more loving contact with my larger rugrats, beginning with my eldest.  Yesterday when he got back from school I tried hard to let him see the joy on my face as I welcomed him home.  I helped him with his math, something I should have been given a medal for, and told him my favorite jokes from middleschool.  Later, as we stood chatting, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a long, bury-his-face-in-my-squishy-chest hug. 

And what were the fruits of my labors?

He surfaced for air and said:

"Um, no offense mom,"

 (uh-oh, here it comes, think I),

"but you smell like baby puke."


julean said...

He'll remember it all... not just the smell of puke.

Good job, mom.

Rebekah said...

Again nice peace, put a smile on my face. It goes so fast.