It's been a long time since I've come to this place with no agenda, no plan, nothing to say, really. Sometimes that's all we really need to do; admit that there's nothing to say, and yet we are bursting at the seams in silence.
Sometimes I look at my boys and I just can't believe they are mine, that I'm old enough to be their mommy, that I can be trusted with lives. Solomon is a daddy's boy, but he sure loves to get a rise out of Rainer. And, he's no dummy; he knows that the surest way to make Rainer mad is to give mommy hugs and kisses. I don't mind. Solomon loves seeing the reaction he knew was coming ... "No, my mommy! Marco, mommy's boy. Solo, daddy's boy!" Two years old and already very territorial. I reassure him that he is still my boy, but Solo is my boy, too. That does not suffice.
"NO! Marco, mommy's boy!! Solo, daddy's boy!! Go, Solo, go!" (pointing to Daddy)
Solo is loving this, as he further snuggles his face into my neck. Go on, fight over me, boys. I know these days will end.
As they fight to secure their spot squeezed next to me, I'm reminded of this basic, carnal human need to belong to somebody. Don't we all just want someone to say to us, "I'm yours." Nothing else, no strings attached, no requirements or stipulations, just two words:
Yesterday Solo hollered at me from the backyard: Come mommy, watch my trick! I lazily walked out to the trampoline and watched as he did a flip. And then another flip. And another, even higher. I couldn't believe it. I can't even do a flip on a trampoline (not that I've tried.) Of course after lots of OOhing and AAAhing and Wow-ing, I asked how in the world he learned how to do that?!
"I don't know mommy, I just watched Santi G and then I knew how." Everyday there's less and less he needs me for, and meanwhile his friends keep getting cooler and cooler. It's all very frightening, really. Before long, I'm going to be wearing jeans hiked up past my belly button and polyester floral jumpers (oh wait, that IS in style) and he's going to hide from me in the school pick up line. I hope that somewhere along the line, I'm doing something "right" enough that he'll always know deep down that I love him more than his friends ever can or will, and one day many moons ago he fought with his little brother to sit on my lap and give me kisses.
Those days, long, long ago, when I was his world.