My Son

This week I accompanied his class grade to a field trip.  This field trip had two classes and only two chaperones (me and a dad) both from the same class. When we got where we were going, I knew I would step up and go with the chaperone-less class. He didn't complain once that his mom did not come with him. One of the students needed to go home because she was sick. So I took over for the teacher for a little while. As I was directing the kids to the picnic tables for lunch, boychild grabs my lunch and his, saying, “Got your lunch Mom.” I watch as he chooses a seat at a table with his friends and sets my lunch bag next to his. Saving my spot. My heart ached with the beauty of it. Sitting there with his back to me, a simple brown bag that the other children respected as “space taken."

I was gathering the stragglers, handling lunch debacles , a bloody nose, and a discipline situation. And every time I glance his way, there was my spot, waiting.
That lunch bag had let me know I was missed. He'd never know that my heart was already there, sitting right next to him. Finally, he gives up and races over to me with the brown bag. 

“Here’s your lunch Mom.”
 

How thoughtful can a little boy be? 
 

I told his earnest, sky blue eyes, “No, Please put my bag next to yours. I'm eating with you.” 

I was rewarded with his limitless smile. And I did. 

The teacher came back, I marched over and planted the Jiggler right next to him.

Did you ever get lost in the beauty of your child’s face? To see a thought play across his face, the connection and peace they have when they find yours, so they can share what was on their mind?
 

I could watch this child for hours, if life would let me. I think it’s the cheeks. So plumpy and kissable. The scent of those cheeks is exactly what a scented candle made in heaven would smell like.
 

After lunch we parted ways.
 

That night I tucked him into bed. He had so much homework and soccer practice, I hadn't had time to squeeze him into a hug. That lonely brown bag deserved a big hug. So he got it. And a quiet, “Thank you” from a mother who can not believe her luck.

6 comments:

  1. I can not stop weeping from this post. I couldn't have said it better myself. It's those little moments where I'm reminded that I've never done anything in my life good enough to warrant having such a spectacular child.

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  2. I feel the same way! I am better for being loved by them, at least.

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  3. You've made me a blubbering mess..lol!! I have 3 kidlets and my teenager isn't into the mum love thing in public..but he always wants a kiss goodnight , and that's good enough for me:D

    Michelle

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  4. That kiss goodnight is worth more than gold isn't it? Awww

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  5. So, I was laughing my jiggler, as you call it, off after reading your posts about Disney and your oven and chin hairs and stuff (yeah, I'm reading out of order), but this one has me in tears. I, too, recently went on a field trip with my son, who's 7, and you just never get tired of that face looking at you, even in front of his buddies, like you're the best thing in the world, do you? And the hugs are like food for my soul, the best part of my day. I tell him teasingly sometimes that in a few years, he probably won't want to hug me, and he earnestly assures me that will NEVER happen, but I know better, so I treasure and cherish every one I get while I'm still getting them. We are so very lucky, aren't we?

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  6. Debbie! I totally think we are the same person living in different dimensions. I am loving all your replies, you are totally making me laugh. You are a treat!

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