A Bad Morning

He looks at me with his big golden brown eyes, his face as serious as can be, and says, “I am having a bad morning.” Then he turns, runs back to his bed and pulls the covers up over his head. It’s something he can get away with, running from the bad or irritating in his little life. It’s mornings like this that we turn the music up and dance around the house. Just the three of us. Who says being a mother of boys is not fulfilling. They keep me grounded, remind me that life is not in the details that others see, but in the moments that they never bear witness to. Those moments when you dance for the fun of it, make a tent with the kitchen chairs and a fan, snuggle up to read a book and instead sit together hugging as tight as each of you can, because just being close makes you happy, when you allow them to pick the paint color for their room and pretend to love it, when they break yet another glass cake pan and this time you just smile and shake your head, reminding them one more time that the kitchen is not the place for toys and ball games.

Life in it’s simplest form is meant to be shared with those you love. It is funny how sometimes we try so hard to live up to a certain standard so others see us as having worth, yet love can not be dressed up, it can not be made more or less, and it is more valuable than any other substance on earth. So I choose the arms of my boys around my neck instead of any diamond. No jewel could ever outshine them, no status level in life will be worth not having time for them, and everyday I am thankful that my heart makes it easy for me to choose between love or life, well, my heart and the three good looking men folk in my life.

So here is to those “Pull the covers over your head” kind of days and those we all love that pull us through them. Oh, and the mom’s like me who invade the home made tent’s of our children to grab photos like this one. Love.