THE SLEEPOVER

Ahhhh, weekends. A time to veg-out, catch up on all the shows on my DVR (really Ben...Courtney? ) and of course, re-connect with the hubs.

Weekends.Rock. Some more than others...



Last weekend was a 180 decibel weekend. The Dickman and I were knee deep in noisy G-babes while their sainted Mama enjoyed a short getaway.

I always look forward to getting those tasty little nuggets all to myself, but this time was different. This was the first time 20-month old Michael had spent a night away from his Mama. And let me tell you folks...Michael reeeeeeeally loves his Mama.

I knew I had to bring my A-Game. For two days I would be responsible for keeping three small people alive, fed and clothed. And hopefully, happy.

I prepared carefully for the 48-hour marathon, stocking my kitchen with gluten-free cookies, loading up on hiney wipers and making sure the 5-Hour Energy drinks and hemorrhoid cream were placed carefully out of reach of curious little hands.

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My just-turned-four-year old Mattman required the least amount of energy. This little guy spends a lot of time inside his own adventurous head. Pin a belt onto his shorts for a tail, and he becomes an elusive tiger prowling stealthily through the house. Tie a towel around his neck and he instantly becomes a crime-fighting super hero, leaping tall ottomans in a single bound.

Mattman spent most of the weekend reminding me what a big guy he is, now that he is four. He informed me that his 'privates' were bigger as well, cause he could now reach the toilet without standing on my feet. I am crazy about this boy.

Five-going-on-17-year old Mandie Lee is a bit more high maintenance. But ridiculously cute. So cute she should have her own Disney Show. Really.

In spite of all that cuteness, there is just no getting around the fact that She.Is.A.Girl. Complete with all the drama and eye-rolling that comes with the double-X chromosome. It is hilarious to catch this pint-sized powerhouse rolling her eyes at me as though I could possibly be irritating her - much like I used to irritate her Daddy.

Mandie Lee is magnificent. She is a big sister, entertainment director, and star diva all rolled into colorful leggings and sparkly shoes. I couldn't love her more if I tried.

And then there's Michael...melt me to my toes Michael. An angel baby with his Daddy's face and his Mama's sweetness. Perfection in footie pajamas. Even though he is the smallest, he is in fact the black hole that sucks up all the energy. He opened my kitchen cabinets and refrigerator door no less than eleventy million times and hid bottles of canola oil and jars of jelly all over my house. I could not take my eyes off this tiny tornado for a second. We even played peek-a-boo while I was on the toilet.

When I wasn't wiping hineys or filling sippy cups, I spent the weekend totally enchanted by these three little munchkins.

[Okay, there was that one tense moment when Matthew felt the need to let me know that I have a 'really big belly'. But seriously, who can trust the judgement of a kid who draws stick people sporting HUGE heads with teeny arms. He clearly has a skewed perspective of body proportion. Besides, I had just eaten half a pan of Rice Krispie Treats which totally bloated me up.]

I did feel a little sorry for him when we headed out in 17 degree weather and discovered that while he had remembered to pack seven of his favorite stuffed animals...Mattman had forgotten to pack a pair of pants.

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I was prepared for baby Michael to miss his Mama. As it turned out, Mandie Lee was the melancholy one. When I tucked her into bed Saturday evening her eyes filled with tears and she said, “I really miss my Mommy.” I wrapped my arms around her and told her that was a sure sign she was growing up.

I said, “Your brothers are too little to understand time. They don't realize it's been awhile since they've seen their Mom, or wonder how long it will be until she comes back. They only think about Right Now. But you are older and wiser. You are learning that two days can be a very long time when you're away from someone you love.”

“So...I'm getting smarter?” Mandie asked.

“Yes you are.”

“And getting smarter makes me miss my Mommy more?” she reasoned.

“Yes, it does, love. That's exactly how it works.”

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Michael began coughing in the wee hours of Sunday morning. I picked him up and tucked him into bed beside me. A short time later, as the sun began peeking through my bedroom curtains, I felt his small hand roughly patting my face. “Mama?” he asked.

“No baby, it's MiMi.”

“O-tay. I wuv yoo, MiMi.”

My heart exploded like the sun, into a bajillion pieces. And at that precise moment, every single piece belonged to the baby snuggled in my arms.

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After they left I headed over to see my own Mama.

She opened the door to her pretty little apartment and I pulled her into a hug. I breathed in the smell of her, reveling in the feel of her familiar hands patting me comfortingly on the back. She didn't notice that I held on a little longer than usual, but waited patiently for me to settle onto the sofa, seeming to understand that what I needed was a good dose of Mama.

“I'm so mad at Whitney Houston...” she began.

For the next 20 minutes, I listened to all the words she had saved up to share with me, nodding and uh-huh-ing when she paused for a breath. All the while aware of the painful squeezing going on in my heart.

Maybe it was seeing Mandie Lee miss her Mama...I'm not sure. But an awareness came over me that this was what I would someday miss the most. The simple joy of sitting at my Mama's feet and sharing life – from the mundane to the extraordinary. It was all I could do to finish our conversation and get back into my car before the tears began to flow.

Because I, too, am smart enough to understand the concept of time.

I whispered a prayer, a plea..."Thank you God for my Mama. Please let me keep her for a long, long time. Please, please, please, pretty please."

Then I wiped the tears from my eyes, and put the car in reverse.

As I drove away, a piece of Rice Krispie Treat fell out of my hair and into my lap...

...and I couldn't help but smile.

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” ~ Mother Teresa