A Great Day to be a Mom

A Great Day to be a Mom

Today was one of those days that I just loved being a mom and loved staying at home full time with my son. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. It was just a good day.

My son woke up earlier than he should have. When I finally went to get him I brought him into our bed. He woke his dad up by pouncing on him and then played peek-a-boo with us under the covers. From our bed we looked out the window to see if there were any birds or squirrels.  

After breakfast we went for a walk (me walking, him in the carriage).  He sang for most of the ride; between verses he nibbled on his toes. By the end of the walk he was tired. The only way to console him was to sing “Itsy Bitsy Spider”. Each time I finished he would turn around and sign for me to do more. I would try a new song but that was not OK. I think I ended up singing it 20 times. He loved it each time. The commuter who got stuck walking to the train right in front of us is probably cursing me to this minute as I am sure he was stuck with the spider in his head all day.

We went to out Music Together class. He danced to the songs and clapped his hands. It makes all the money we have spent on these classes all seem well spent to see him bounce when he hears a song he likes and clap his hands to the beat.

Then I went to Starbucks to grab a Frappuccino (a guilty pleasure of mine). As he and I were standing at the counter he eyed the fruit cup. He grabbed it and handed it to me. I put it back. He let me know he wanted it. I told him we could eat some fruit when we got home. He picked it up again. I figured, what the heck, if I can indulge in a Frappuccino, why can’t he have some fresh fruit. Why was I in such a rush to get home?  What was there that couldn’t wait. I had a dream date waiting for me at Starbucks.

We sat in the big comfortable chairs; him with his fruit, me with my drink.  He realized he liked the music they were playing and he started to bop to the music. We waved at everyone as they came in and left.  We laughed at my silly dance moves. He laughed some more when I tickled him.  He was sad when it was time to go. I was too.

He gave me my afternoon workout by sitting on our bed and throwing his ball off of my side of the bed and having me retrieve it and give it back to him. Then he would scoot to the other side of the bed and throw the ball and instruct me to retrieve it. Then to the other side of the bed he went and would toss the ball again. This back and forth lasted a good half-hour.  I could have taken him down and gone to do the laundry, or clean the kitchen, or any other of the seemingly millions of undone chores I have; but I didn’t. I couldn’t. It was too endearing to hear him laugh hysterically every time I would run after the ball.

When he gave me a hug before bed I told him “goodnight” and that I would see him in the morning and that I would miss him while he is sleeping ... and I do.

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