Breath Son

Today I sat in my closet for ten minutes and just cried. I cried like a little baby. I cried so hard that I could barely open my eyes because they were completely swollen shut. I think it was a long time coming. Every woman needs a good cry every once in a while. Well, it's more like a quarterly meeting for me and my closet floor. What set me off this time? Have a seat and let me share with you every mothers nightmare. Today, I was packing for our yearly, family vacation. It is the one time of year that I can pack up my whole house and go away from the heat and smell of Garlic City. I usually pack 5 bags because a girl just never knows what to bring and I need a bag for all my fabulous, summer sandals. Right? I was packing my last bag, the toiletry bag. See, that's another reason why I have 5 bags. My kids were playing quietly in the other room, too quiet. I have 2 crazy boys and if there is ever a moment when they are quiet that means either they broke something or they are asleep. This time however, instead of me checking on them, every 5 minutes, (I was deeply enveloped in my laundry duties.) (this rarely happens). As I was folding my 20th load of laundry, I thought to myself, my kids are quiet, too quiet. I walked out to the kitchen to find my son with a red face and grasping for breath. Red liquid was streaming down his face as he was grabbing at his throat. I immediately sprung into action. I ran to his side and hit him twice on his back. I was so filled with adrenaline I thought I had broken his spine. With the second hit out flew a piece of red candy he had found under the couch. (Oh, by the way he had pulled the couch over on its side so he could have a fort to hide in). After everything was over, I just sat there on the floor with him in my arms like a new born infant. Him and I just cried. I cried because I thought I had failed as a mother and he cried because he thought I was angry at him. The exact opposite was true. My sons are my life, my day, my night. Without them I would have nothing. I live for them, I am a better person because of them. My sons are my reason for being me. (let the violins begin)( Oh, and my husband, love you sweetie) My son continued to cry in my arms for just a few moments. He looked up at me and smiled and said, "mama don't cry. Mama you know what will make us better? A Popsicle!" I would give him the Moon if he asked for it. I smiled and gave him and his brother a Popsicle. Once they went down for naps I walked straight to my closet and sunck to the floor. Tears were falling from my eyes like Niagara Falls. I thought to myself, "how am I going to raise 2 boys to adulthood if I can barely keep them alive!! It was a low moment, a moment of dispair. As I sat there thinking how horrible I was, my son walked in. He walked strait to me and hugged me. He looked at me and said, "Mama, no more tears, the Popsicle fixed us." Kids are so wise. I smiled and threw my arms around him. I continued to pick him up and bring him back to his bed. I decided to lay down with him until he fell asleep. It reminded me of the days when he was a baby. I laid there with him in my arms and as my eyes became heavy, I thought, I can do this and even if I can't, I know my young, wise son will be there to reassure me. Because, no matter what. No matter if I'm in my dirty sweats or if I'm beautiful or ugly or if I'm the silliest person in the room. He will love me unconditionally. No one else in the world can be so innocent, so caring as children. And if you ever have a nightmare like mine remember the wise words of my son, a Popsicle fixes everything