Dear Sugar: A Time to Breathe

Dear Sugar,

It was a typical morning in our home.  A divine mixture of chaos and laughter and bickering.   

When I finally managed to load the kids and all their stuff (don't kids have a lot, and I mean a lot, of STUFF?) into the van, I was tired.  Sweaty.  Craving coffee, a workout, a splash of cold water to the face:  anything to give me energy.  I eased the van onto the road and headed to my older daughter's school.

The noise from the kiddos sitting behind me escalated.  They wanted to watch a movie (a movie, during a two mile ride?).  Then one child was mad because she didn't like the song that was playing the radio, propelling her to demand loudly:  CHANGE IT!  CHANGE IT, PLEASE!   I DO NOT LIKE THIS SONG!

I'm not sure if I responded, let out a sigh, or simply tried to pretend I was jetting to a magical vacation destination, but something caught my eye.

As children poured into the school doors, I spotted a woman and a little boy on the sidewalk.  The woman had her arms around the child, and he was as close to her as possible, their full bodies touching.   They had their eyes closed, the little boy's head buried in his mom's chest, his arms around her waist, hands clasped together.  

In the midst of a busy morning, they took a few seconds to breathe.  To inhale the scent of one another, feel the pressure of each others limbs.  

Reassurance.

Security.

Love.  

A small moment like this can simply re-set a day, or start the day on the right foot.  A moment like this can bring incredible peace and joy.   

It doesn't take long to give your child a touch that says:

-You matter.

-You are special to me.

-I believe in you.

-You are going to have a great day, starting with our embrace.

-I think you are the best kid on this planet.

-I'm here for you, even when I'm not right in front of you.

-I'm so lucky to be your mom.

-I can't wait to hear about your day.

-Thanks for doing life with me.

It is SO easy to forget what matters, to lie to ourselves, to put off the sacred moments (taking for granted they'll always be there).   

This week, this post- Mother's-Day week, give yourself a gift.   

Breathe.  

Stop.

Embrace.