There are these transitory moments in my life when I feel an overwhelming surge of hope and love and joy and gratification. They are beautiful, marvelous, even staggering moments that propel me forward and recharge my batteries when they start to drain from all the routine events of living.
The other morning Jon was getting the kids out the door to head to daycare. Mario typically wants me to walk him out and put him in his car seat but that morning I was not dressed to head outside and I was saying my goodbyes to Mario in the living room. I reinforced how much fun daycare was, how Ms. Leslie and Ms. Amanda would take care of him, and how mom would take him on a bike ride when he got home.
“Have a great day, ok buddy?”
“Ok, mommy. I want to tell you something, mommy.”
“What is it Mario bo Bario?”
“I love you to my heart, mommy.”
There it was – my few seconds of absolute bliss standing in front of my two-year old son hearing words of pure love directed at me. Ahh, they hung in the air. I snatched them up and gulped them down. He proceeded to tell me “I am getting to be a big boy, mom.” My heart ached with affection. I scooped him up and gave him a bear of a hug, feeling his big boy breath against my ear, and appreciating his tender sweet baby self.