The Postcard

As ya know, being a mom is really a crazy job. You have 15 balls in the air at once and sometimes all of the juggling comes right down on your head in an instant. You duck, but can’t avoid being hit repeatedly by all that you are trying to do… the amount of patience we are supposed to have - the way we handle every situation - the whole nine yards. I tell ya what though, it is comments like this or witnessing things like this that make it all so worth while. Where would we be without kids??

Mikie says to me the other morning while eating Honey Nut Cheerios, “can I have some more Mom?” “You still have some in your bowl Mikie,” I say, “you have to eat those first.” “But Mom, I don’t like it when my cereal gets foggy!”

Yesterday before naps we were all hanging out upstairs. The boys were playing in their room while I fed Molly sitting on Jack’s bed. Once Mol was all finished, I went to change her diaper in her room and came across this… Mikie had been drawing on a piece of paper that he called a “postcard.” He goes up to Jack and hands it to him saying “here Jack, I made you a postcard.” Jack takes it, and with a sentimental loving voice says “thank you so much Mike for my postcard.” He even gives Mikie a hug! RARE. So I stand there and watch as Jack tells Mike to stay in the hallway while he went into Erk’s and my room. Jack climbs up on our bed and whispers quietly to himself as if reading this scribbled on paper out loud, “Dear Jack, I’m sorry that you got an owie on your finger. I hope it gets better soon, Love Mike.” It was one of those moments that I put my hand over my heart and exhaled. It was so cute. Jack then gets up off the bed and goes about playing in his room. A bit later he has to go potty and closes the door. Mikie goes and opens the door and Jack tells him to get out, he needs some privacy. So Mikie waits patiently by the door and finally Jack comes out. I said to Jack “Mikie was just trying to give you another postcard.” “Ohh, you were Mikie, where is it?” Back into our room Jack goes with the postcard, shutting the door behind him. You have to know our house, but with it’s age, it takes some muscle to get a door to close all the way. Jack didn’t push it hard enough so it was left open a sliver. I watched as Jack once again read outloud to himself, “Dear Jack…” he paused and looked at Mikie also sitting on the bed. Mikie chimes in, “It says Happy Birthday Jack.” Jack continues “Dear Jack, Happy Birthday Jack…” Jack turns to Mikie and says, “my birthday is in July.” Mikie responds, “yeah, it says Happy Birthday Jack July.” Jack continues, “Dear Jack, Happy Birthday Jack July, Love Mikie.” :)