"Hug, Momma!"

Both of my boys have been going through one of those phases…the Momma phase. I can’t cook dinner without holding my 12 month old on my hip and I can’t put on my makeup in the morning without both of my little ones in my lap.  While I try to peek at my face in my vanity mirror between bobbing heads in front of me, my two year old makes faces at himself and licks the mirror. Why does he do that? (Yes, I’m the lady at work with the crazy makeup because I had so much “help” while putting it on.)
 

 

When I finally accomplish slapping something disguised as make up on my face and make my hair lay in a reasonably decent arrangement on my head, I proceed with my morning while one little boy clings to each leg. The 12 month old whines and the 2 year old says “Hug, Momma!”

 

I get so aggravated sometimes. I’ve only been on time to work a handful of times since my second son was born, but every morning I stress over it. I start my day earlier and earlier, but when you forget 4 different items and run back into the house 6 different times to get them all, it doesn’t matter what time you head to the car…you’re gonna be late. But there I am, walking up and down the hallway with a sand bag on each leg,  jogging back into my bedroom because I forgot to put on my shoes, running to find where we left toothbrushes the night before, stopping to catch a wiggling foot long enough to stuff it into a little sock,…. all the while, the sand bag on my leg says “Hug, Momma!”

 

On Friday, I had an emotional day. I had a trying morning (as usual…see previous blog posts) and United Way visited us at the bank. The Director of The Amelia Center gave a heart wrenching account of the counseling they provide to children who have lost their parents and vice versa. He told about how grown men and women who lost a parent at a very young age are still affected by their loss and how The Amelia Center uses their years of experience in this area to help these children when they are very young to talk about their feelings. My father passed away when I was five years old. This was twenty four years ago….and I cried on Friday in that meeting and again on Monday when a friend asked me about my father.

 

This morning was different when my 2 year old poked his head in my bedroom. He was only wearing a t shirt and pull up and his white blonde hair looked like a rat’s nest. I always tell him “Good Morning, Baby” and ask him for my Good Morning hug, but today I had a different attitude. I’m not sure when he’ll stop asking me for hugs and I’m not certain that there won’t be a day when I’m not there to give him one. This morning I turned around in my vanity chair and said “Good Morning, Baby!” like I always do, then I picked him up, squeezed him ‘til he almost popped and kissed those cheeks and eyelids. When he said “Hug, Momma” we hugged and hugged and hugged. Then he sat in my lap while I put on my makeup. It’s the same scenario as every day, but today it was different. 

 

And I was only 2 minutes late for work.