Lake Mushy

So I told myself when I started this blog that I wasn't going to write about anything mushy. No tender feelings, no heart-wrenching tales. I'm pretty much all about sharing the laughter and the fun. I know, I know, I may have dipped my big toe in Lake Mushy when I wrote a little about high school friends a few weeks ago. But I was okay with that because I'd had a good time at the mini-reunion and wanted to share.

But sometimes things will happen that set you diving head-first into good old Lake Mushy. Even if it's something simple. Like this evening, Silly came to dinner and looked like he wasn't feeling very well. He said he didn't want anything to eat then went over to the couch and curled up on it, moaning a little. He felt a bit warm and looked a bit pale, so I told him he could go get in my bed and rest to see if that made him feel better. So I tucked him in and the rest of us continued to eat. A little bit later he started calling for me, somewhat urgently. I went in to see what he needed, thinking he'd thrown up, was feeling worse, or needed me to get him something. Then he said the words that warmed this mom's heart.

"Mom, will you snuggle with me?"

This would be my boy who likes to always look tough. He likes pirates, sports, and riding his bike. He doesn't like girls (yet), crying and has gradually misplaced his map to Lake Mushy somewhere--I'm guessing either under his bed or in the back of his closet. And yet all that would make him feel better was for his mom to snuggle with him.

At that moment, it didn't matter to me how many times I've lost the Mom Of The Year Award in all the other parts of the contest: Keeping the laundry always done, Making wonderful, yet nutritious dinners every night, Always being on time to everything with everyone's hair neatly done and with matching socks.

All that mattered was that I meant so much to my son that simply snuggling with him would make him feel better.

...oh, and I hope he's not contagious.