L.T., my 14 year old son, flew in yesterday from his dad’s house for his summer visit. My oldest son, Naughty Bear, offered to go with me and we also picked up my 14 year old nephew, codenamed Roboto Dude. Because of my overly excited self, NB ended up having to drive because of a migraine and mild dizziness.
A few rough patches later and my baby boy strolled off the plane with his deep voice saying “Hello, Mother.” It’s always hard to remain upright when I see my babies after such long spans, but to see my youngest biological child approach in the guise of a man-sized human? Nearly impossible to reconcile with the mental image I carry between visits.
Add to that the text messages I got from him on Saturday night, and I was completely twitterpated at his arrival. His excitement at getting here, down to knowing how many hours remained, had me over the moon. After that, a full migraine hit and NB had to drive home, as well. We met my dad for dinner to celebrate his 75th birthday and had a wonderful time. He and I were quiet at times, just watching them. I finally asked him where our babies went, as we were faced with three young men. Each one is taller than us and have deep voices and facial hair. He shrugged and looked as confused as I at the passage of time.
I sometimes wish that Chooch and I had a child together, and that it was a girl. It has more to do with wanting to selfishly have a tangible symbol of our love than any real desire to have another child, which is why we won’t have one. Besides, and I say this without hesitation, I never want to mess with the relationship we have with our boys. To have another child would mean we’d have to turn our eyes from the three loves of our lives. Our bonds are extremely strong, unbreakable by distance of any kind.
LT, NB and RD all want to go with me to the track for a run later today, my sons insisting that they want to lose weight. LT, already fit butwanting to get healthier said, “Who better to ask how than you?” Instantly, the exercise rut I’ve been in since Balticon is over. Maternal need to set a good example has pushed me out of it. Today I run. With my sons.
It’s the morning I’ve been waiting all year for: my boys sleeping in after staying up all night gaming, laughing, and playing music too loud.
Pure bliss.