a boy

Today is Mother’s Day, I slept in until 8. Yes, that is sleeping in for me. I got up, took out my dog, said Happy Mother’s Day to my oldest daughter and grabbed a cup of coffee. As I sat down the boys began to arise.  The youngest came to the breakfast bar with his blanket wrapped around him. I reached over and gave his curly locks a stroke and whispered good morning, “Do you know it’s Mother’s Day ? ” “Did you tell Mommy happy Mother’s Day?” He looked up with excitement and said “wait, I have a present for you ”

We watched as he got down off the stool and grabbed his backpack and fished out a tissue paper wrapped present, and presented it to his mom. From that moment on he was grinning from ear to ear. He was so excited to give his mother a gift, and his dancing eyes were filled with anticipation. She unwrapped it and when she saw it was a bound blue notebook, she asked “Did you write a book about me?” He responded “yes”.

As she began to read the book out loud, he danced and grinned with joy. He had written the Pulitzer prize of Mother’s Day. As she read each page he had written, I felt like I was watching a love story unfold. I was, he loves his mom. He had written each page with honesty and seen through only his eyes.  Each page was dedicated to a different reason he loves his mom. My favorite was  “She makes the best PB&J, she puts peanut butter and one side and jelly on the other and makes it taste like candy.” Now that is love.

As this was unfolding before me, the older boy said “I didn’t get you anything, sometimes I forget” and she calmly replied “me too buddy.”

Mothering is not reserved for birth, anyone can mother, a man, a woman, the paperboy, a librarian, a teacher, a stranger. It is the acts and the art of mothering that make you a mother.

As mother’s we get so many daily gifts, kisses, hugs, laughs, questions and smiles. I think the perfect Mother’s Day gift is words. you can never go wrong with words.  The right words, can change a life, mend a heart and build a smile.

Spread some words today.

Until Next Time,

LJ

 

 

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The Sandbox

As I made my journey from Rock Island to Hampton today I drove along the river, as I have done for most of my life. I have always been near or lived near water. As I drive this route frequently, I try to notice something different each time. This time it was Consumers. For those of you who don’t know, Consumers is a company that fills sandboxes, yes they do other things, but for me it’s the sand. I think that Consumers made me fall in love with the beach.

When I was growing up we had a sandbox in our backyard, it was fairly rustic, made from pieces of leftover wood nailed together in a square. It was painted green and had triangular pieces of wood in each corner , those were the seats. I shared the sandbox, like most of my toys with my brother Steve. I remember in the Spring we would refill  the sandbox, because it disappears somehow over the seasons. We would go to consumers and fill buckets or something with the sand and put it in the trunk of our car. The trunk would be weighed down and Dad would painstakingly move the sand from the car to our sandbox.

After it was filled with pure new sand, we were free to play. I don’t remember how much I played but to this day, I remember the feeling of my toes in the sand. Putting my toes in and digging down to the coolest part of the sand, the level of near mud, where the sand meets the grass. The cold sand on top of my feet and slowly bringing my feet up through the sand like a foot volcano of sand and begin again. It was a glorious feeling. The sand was soft and heavy across your feet and tumbled as you pushed your way through it. Sure some got in your mouth or hair in the course of play, but what a fun afternoon sitting in the sandbox.

That joy has never left me, when I see a beach, whether New York, South Carolina, Florida or anywhere else, I am transported back to my sandbox and I cannot wait to put my feet in the sand. It is where I most feel at peace, sitting on a beach inhaling the sea spray and pondering the wonders of the ocean.

We all need our own sandbox, that place or thing that takes you back and gives you a warm fuzzy that no one can take from you.

Find your sandbox.

Until next time,

LJ

No, this isn’t me.. but it could be.

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