Mamas

The family went swimming today, The Husband, Sir H, The Bear and I, and we came home just wiped out. There's something so clean and refreshing about getting in a hot tub after swimming late in the afternoon, and I was lying in our bed, nursing The Bear, him in a dipe, me in undies and nothing else, with The Husband lying there reading, and Sir H happily dreaming on the other side of our wall, and I was struck by how amazingly blessed I am.

I said, "I wish it could be this way forever," looking down at The Bear and stroking his soft skin as he nursed with his leg thrown over my waist, and his hand rubbing my hair. The Husband said, "Stay a baby?" I thought about what I was trying to capture, and I said, "No, not necessarily that he'll stay young forever, but I don't want to lose the feeling of closeness where we could all lie here, naked, the four of us, quietly and together. Nothing in between us, nothing to hide. And I love that he wants his mama. I love being his world. It goes too quickly, then they want you, just like Sir H." The Husband was quiet for a while and said, "That's not true, we still need our mamas."

We have been going through some estrangement with The Husband's parents and haven't spoken with them in a while, and I said, "You don't need your mama anymore." He responded, with a faraway look on his face, "I miss her. It makes me sad." And I could see the little boy peek through. I held his hand and told him I was sorry. We renewed our vow to never allow anything to drive us away from our boys, and to accept them for who and what and where they are, so that they never have to look at their partner and say, "I miss her. I miss my mama."