His name is Barrett. But we call him Bear. He’s two. And he’s cute. Too cute sometimes, but I guess that’s our fault.
He can be so precocious and obstinate, but he also voluntarily kisses me more than the other two. They have their own very special ways of connecting with me, but Bear’s is kissing. Lot’s and lot’s of kissing. I have been told that will end in a few years, but I hope not.
He sure does it right. He will come up to me and say, “keese?” Then (and this is the best part) he puts his little, chubby hands on either side of my face, looks into my eyes and then plants some sugar.
Just an example. This morning was another of the beauties of living a slower life. I slept in a bit because of yesterday’s coffee fiasco and that is when I felt several little, warm bodies creep in beside me. I love these moments where all is quiet, I can hear them breathing, and their sweet smell and soft, urgent whispers of, “don’t kick me!” and “But I want to be next to Mommy!” surround me.
That is typically when Bear makes his move. My eyes are closed, I can feel his face get closer and I know he’s staring at me willing my eyes to open. So I open them. And there, just a few centimeters away, are two beautiful, blue orbs of merriment. That is when the conversation starts.
“Keese, Mommy?”
“Sure, Bear, Mommy would love a kiss.” He gives me his little-boy kiss and shoves his arm under my head and around my neck in a gentle headlock. He makes sure his legs are under the comforter and then he pulls it to his chin. The blue orbs disappear in what seems to be sleepiness, so I close mine.
And then, “Mommy? Sweep?”
“No, buddy. Mommy’s awake.”
“‘wake?”
“Yup. I’m awake.”
“Mommy! Oh, no! Padoo, padoo, paaadddooooo!” (The games begin)
I’m supposed to shriek in fear, so I do, “Oh no, Bear! Where’s the spider?”
“Here, Mommy.” He walks his little chubby hand up my arm and wiggles it a bit.
“Ooooh, Bear. That’s a scary spider, huh?”
“Get it, Mommy! Get it!”
I gently squash it and he makes a poor mewing sound. Must be the death rattle of the spider. Suddenly, I feel bad. Bear’s face perks up in an instant, he makes a whistling sound through his lips and the spider miraculously re-inflates.
A miracle, folks. I have just witnessed a miracle.
After a few more rounds of kisses with them all and a few more spider miracles, we head into our day. I find myself feeling so grateful for the little stuff as I contemplate my three gifts and the astounding re-inflatable spider. Praise be.
I know we’ve said it before that Connor and Berrett (Bo & Bear) act like twins, but this post is scary. Connor did the exact same “‘pider” thing to Nate this morning. He wiggled his little fingers up Nate’s arm and shrieked that it was a ‘pider! Too funny.