There is nothing more beautiful for a mother than when the kids get along and silence befalls a home. Tonight the boys fell asleep arm in arm. Two sets of ridiculously long eyelashes brushed Cassiopeia. Two taupe arms embraced the genetic best friend. Two little boys, who normally bite the crap out of each other, bared sleepy smiles instead of tiger-like fangs.
I watched in awe as closed eyes darted back and forth, as if reading the credits of a movie. They slept. Together. Arm in arm. These boys. These brothers. They destroy my home during the day. They destroy me by night with the illumination of love. I did nothing to earn this feeling. Yet, I gobble it up like a baker's daughter. I allow the sweetness to permeate my once-cynical soul. I was told I couldn't have any more children. Yet here they are.
And, I felt like Holly Hunter in Raising Arizona.
I want to say to my husband, "Bring me a toddler, DaddyFixIt. Bring me a toddler."
Raising Arizona would probably never be made today. We are a culture that takes kidnapping, in the most literal form, very seriously. But, the movie is the best visual chronicle of what being a mother is supposed to be. Love. Longing. The desire to be loved and to love without condition or description. It is what it is.
Tonight, my accent, my horrid, southern accent finally served me well, as I cut off the light in their room, and attempted to imitate the sublime Holly Hunter aloud. I tried to push back the tears, and said, "I love them soooooo much."
They will be out of school in a few days. I won't be loving their taupe asses then...
Happy Mother's Day, friends. Savor the good times...like when they are passed out slam asleep.