A Little Southern Comfort

Do you ever have those days where you feel like a human trampoline?  Or a human bean bag chair?  As the mother of two boys, that feeling is an everyday feeling for me.  My kids love to jump on top of my back and ride piggy-back down the stairs in the morning to eat breakfast before school.  They take running leaps and land on me from across the room when I'm sitting on the couch in the evenings.  And, bless me if I ever get sick enough to have to stay in bed, because those little stinkers hop all around the bed saying, "Momma, guess what?  Momma, look at this!  Momma, where are my shoes?"

But when those two are off playing with LEGOs (toy of choice in my house), battling each other with light sabers, or actually sitting quietly watching tv, a strange sense of lonliness envelopes me.  The feeling is so strong that I immediately go to each one of the boys, put my arms around them for bear hugs, and kiss their cheeks while exclaiming madly, "I love you!  I love you!  I love you!"  My oldest turns red and says, "Mooomm!"  But my youngest snuggles up and sits a spell.

I know they're going to be grown sooner than I'd like, and when they are, will be too big to sit on my lap.  But for now, I'm enjoying their feet almost touching the ground and their bodies being just big enough that they almost slip out of my lap.  Because it's during those times that I remember how well they fit in my arms as I rocked them to sleep as babies.  That memory warms me and keeps the lonly feelings of growing boys at bay. 

My arms will never be too small to encircle my boys to give them hugs.  Nor will my body ever be too fragile to endure them jumping over to me and showing their love in true boy-ish fashion.  Their way of showing love is the comfort that endures forever.