I sit on the bench, its’ cold cement seeping through my leggings. I’d remembered to bring a jacket this late in the day and I zip it until it stops under my chin. I wish I could hide my hands in the sleeves, but I need to hold my book. It’s a mommy miracle that my two boys are finally able to handle the playground with minimal supervision in the first place, allowing me to read my book in between spurts of looking up and scanning the area.
The sun is on the verge of setting, casting the sky and wispy clouds above in swirling pink and orange. Parents are milling about, two by two, and kids are whizzing by on scooters, climbing rock walls, and racing down slides. I am deep into the middle of the second chapter when I hear “Mommy, Mommy!” in the unmistakable voice of my five year old. My eyes sweep the playground… green shirt plaid shorts, green shirt plaid shorts, green shirt, plaid shorts….there he is. “What is it?” I holler over. “Lookit at this!” he shouts, bounding up one slide, crossing a platform, and zooming down another. I try to sound enthusiastic when I give him the thumbs up and yell “Awesome!” but I’m anxious to get back to my reading.
The sparkle in his eye is unmistakable. He is so proud of his obstacle course maneuver that I pause and let my eyes linger on his lean, athletic frame. It won’t be long now before he is off with his own friends, my attention unwanted, my hugs and kisses embarrassing. He’ll be showing off for his peers instead of for his mommy.
I decide to pause a little longer, savor this moment, set my book aside just for this minute. It might not come again.
**If you enjoyed this post, consider sharing it! And be sure to sign up below to get The Scoop, a twice a month newsletter filled with helpful links to the best posts and podcasts around the internet!