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A Bedtime Story

Last night, it was bedtime.  I was settled on my six year old's bed, surrounded by an assortment of stuffed animals.  LLG sometimes needs more "mommy time" than my other munchkins.  He is often shuffled from place to place, watching his sister or brother at practice.  He waits for Dad to pitch him baseballs, and he has to tolerate the Moopa destroying his room.

He is a middle child, and it can be a hard knock life for sure.

I understand why he craves those extra snuggles, and I happily oblige.  Last night the house was quiet, and I took those few extra minutes for his goodnight.  While we talked, LLG grew quite sleepy eyed and "mushy."

"Mushy" is a term one of my oldest girlfriend's used during our teenage years.  It means relaxed, loving, snuggly and unstressed.  Newborn babies are mushy, and kids after naps. 

I asked LLG if I'm a good Mama.  He said yes.  I asked him why, and he said it was a tough question.  He was smiling, rubbing his eyes.  I sat for a few moments on his checkered quilt while he yawned.  I could see him thinking, and so I waited.

When he didn't answer me, I asked him again.   

Why am I a good Mommy?

Silence.  Deep thought.  I waited for an answer such as you give me ice cream after dinner.  Or you help me with homework. Maybe he was going to say I play basketball with him.  Or that I clean his mess.

The answer I got was so much better.

"Um...because....well, you do everything for me...."

Que tears.  There is no greater sacrifice, but also no greater privilege than being a parent.  None.  Nope.  Nada.

There is nothing like it.  And I'm so very blessed to be a Mommy.

Happy Tuesday to all my fellow parents!

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