Friday, March 4, 2011

Snuggle Bunnies

There are extremely few opportunities during my year to sleep in... 

Mother's Day. This is a lovely day; however, because it falls on a Sunday, I get up early to go to chapel. Once I get back home though, I promptly crawl back into bed (usually in my jeans and sweatshirt) and allow myself the luxury of sleeping until I hear the guys unmercifully clanking pots and pans to create their culinary masterpiece of scrambled eggs and bacon.

My Birthday. This day is a false opportunity in that unless it falls on a weekend, I still have to get everyone up for school or work, make lunches, etc. I can always go back to bed afterwards but then the magic is lost.

Sick days. Unless one of these days falls on Eric's telecommuting days of Tuesdays or Wednesdays, I'm shit out of luck. And honestly, when I'm that sick, everyone can fend for themselves. I don't care what happens. Just give me some aspirin and a box of tissues and let's call it a day.

Normal weekends. Nope. Austynn wakes up at 6:30 like clockwork. "Mom...?"  And then I'm downstairs giving him his meds. Even when I place them on the counter the night before, he can't seem to remember that it's not necessary to wake me up. I wonder if he'll still be doing this when he's in his late teens...?

And then there are days like today - the perfect opportunity. Eric took the day off. He offered to let me sleep in and would make the boys their lunches, feed them breakfast and take them to school. My loving, wonderful husband.

Eric got up, started taking care of things downstairs with our oldest and I snuggled deep under the covers waiting for sleep to embrace me once again.


Oh my my muddled mind I'm thinking this guy is not supposed to be awake and out of bed for an hour yet. You see, Austy's a tricky feller. On the weekends he gets up at 6:30 a.m., yet on school days we have to pull him out of bed at 7:30 a.m. Isn't that interesting?


"Can we snuggle?"

Here he stands, in my doorway, a 165 pound 12 year old who's emotionally more like an 8 year old. 


Austy has what I call "kookoos" breath in the morning (I don't know where I got that word but there it is). He crawls next to me and whispers that he loves me. I hide from his breath under my comforter. He dives his chunky, clunky fingers under the covers to find me and pokes me in the eye.  I laugh. He tells me I sound funny. I tell him I'm wearing my mouth guard. He pushes the hair away from my face and giggles when our dog, Tank, kicks him. Then Austynn tickles my neck rather awkwardly with those clunky fingers I mentioned before. I hear his dad calling him.

"I've gotta' go, Mom."  Then he gives me a "Butterfly" kiss. I hold my breath because I know that his kookoos breath is going to hit me hard. He takes off his thick, bottle lens glasses and gives me butterfly kisses - the kind that only Austynn's incredibly long eyelashes can give.  This time, I giggle and tell my son that I love him.

"Bye Mom."

"Bye Bubba."

A few seconds later I feel his thick hands wrapping his treasured Rockie's baseball blanket around my shoulders. I start drifting back to sleep...



"Can we snuggle?"



"Are you finished with everything downstairs?"


"You're so silly."

With that answer, my 15 year old came bounding on my bed with one massive jump. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, William."

He starts pretending to bite my toes, my arms, gives me a huge smooch on the cheek.  "Have a great day, Mama. I love you. Bye!"

"Bye Big Boy...Be Safe."

At last, I am alone in bed and can go to sleep. I lay there thinking about my kids. I toss. I turn. I smile. I have to go pee. I might as well get up. 


Brenda said...

As completely awkward as this sounds...I envy you.

Margaret said...

This is beautiful... and as it should be! :)