The first signs of flowers opening,
A wee one snuggling in close,
The pitter-patter of toddler feet,
A night out with the ladies,
Long road trips with my famo,
My dearest friends speaking comforting words,
A newborn, so fresh and innocent,
A day in the kitchen, cooking,
A really good professor, expanding thoughts,
A great photo shot, perfect lighting,
The sound of my boys harmonious,
Moments when I don't feel alone,
When I know we're all connected,
People using their wealth and skills
To help those in much need,
Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Teresa,
Not really "things," but still fave's,
Weddings, parties, gatherings, celebrations, so joyous,
Food from the garden, so fresh,
Love and acceptance from loved ones,
The way young one repeats himself,
When we part ways each time,
Repeating, "love you mom!" and also,
"See you tonight!" "See you later!"
The way first born still runs
And hugs me when he sees
Me show up at his school, unannounced,
No care of being 10, sigh,
I know that will change, but,
Now I welcome and cherish it.
I love opportunity that shows up,
Without my even searching for it,
When my decisions seem validated by
All things effortlessly lining up right.
Bike riding, hot springs, beautiful mountains,
Oh, I could go on forever!
For more six word Friday posts on Favorite Things,
check out Melissa's blog.
My boys like to wrestle, play fight, and play tag. They do this in the living room, in the yard, at the pool. Lately J has taken to making me "base." I'm sure most of you know the base rules from tag, but basically base means that when you are touching it, you are safe from the game for a while, until you are ready to get off base and jump back in.
Sometimes being base for their games irks me. I'm not a fan of 2 boys wrestling on top of me, because even though the young one (who is the one who takes to using me as base) is "safe," first born doesn't take it seriously and keeps right on tackling, wrestling, tickling, etc. That usually ends in mama making a rule that she is no longer base.
Metaphorically speaking, however, I am base. I am the safety zone where my boys can rest, unravel, feel as if nothing can hurt them for the time being. In my lap, they can cry and tell me about why school sucked that day. They can snuggle and feel love from the person who loves them most. They can get their back rubbed or their tinctures administered when they are sick. They come to get their hair brushed and their boo boo's kissed. First born comes to get validation. Young one comes often, for the security of mama.
The world is still out there when they decide to jump back in, but in mama's arms there is security and safety, love and warmth. I'm sure there will be a time when friends or wives become base for my sweet boys, but I hope they always find a safe place with me. I hope they always find warmth and acceptance in my eyes and arms, understanding and compassion in my heart and words.