Just Another Friday Night

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After work today I have already had a dance party, played hide and seek, jumped a lot on various couches and beds and drank a ton of black tea.  I am reunited with my favorite monkeys in the universe, plus one monkey cousin.  And yes, we did sing five little monkeys jumping on the bed.

It’s a slumber party!  And it is so awesome to see how much they have grown and blossomed.  And grown.  R. is huge!  He’s three going on 18.  Look out future ladies of the land, this boy will be breaking some hearts.  And J.  ridiculous, she gets more beautiful every time I see her.  I cannot express how lucky I am to have these amazing children in my life.  And nothing is as good as hearing them say my name and I love you.  Nothing.

Sorry future boyfriend/lover/husband, no kisses will be as sweet as the night time tuck me in kisses these children bestow upon me.  I am so very much in awe of the people they have become.  They seem to have like Athena sprung straight from the head of Zeus into very complex, dynamic, complete, independent people.  I am really in awe.

And I was nervous coming over here, I can admit it.  What if they’ve become to sophisticated for my silliness?  What, if like my best friend Stephanie said, “I think she’s a bad influence,” to her husband Steve while I was chasing the seven year old and the three year old around their home in the wee hours of the morning, what if, they’ve become to old for such hijinks?  Perhaps J. & R. have become too erudite for me, my niggling fears whispered in my ear.  After all they have a better pre-school education then I had college.

But nope, R. stills likes it when I pick him up and hold him upside down and tickle him.  And he still likes to torture me by licking my face.  And J. insists on having me hold her and Friend blanket for snuggles.  There is nothing like the warm breath of a beloved child on one’s face to completely seal your fate.  I swear, I would take bullets for these kids, no doubt about it.

Some time I think I have been ruined for having my own kids.  Aside from the fact that I am currently single and of the ripe old age of 38, which equals probably not having children, I have been spoiled by these interactions.  Lulled into this ridiculous love that makes my heart throb and a painful lump consume my chest.

I remember how hard I was crying after I said good bye to R.  There was a person who I later ran into, and temporarily nannied for, that thought some one close to me had died.  And when I left J.  I was physically sick for days, actually vomiting and confined to bed.  I think they have some affect on me.  And in my heart, I know that I have had an affect on them.

One that sometimes could be construed as embarrassing, I mean, not many people remind me as often as R. as to what my favorite chorus of the poop song is.  But for the most part, I am moved by how much love they show the world and how much they express themselves, with their big words and bright eyes you’d think they were much older than three.

And in my heart of hearts they will always be the first babies that fell asleep on my shoulder while I sang “Hush little baby don’t say a word, I’m going to buy you a mocking bird”.  They were my templates and I theirs.  I believe we made some good impressions on one another.  And I don’t know that I could possibly love any the same way I love them.

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