Honeysuckle

The japanese honeysuckle is in massive bloom tonight, maybe from all the rain we had today, like buckets and bathtubs of rain. I cranked open all the windows and now the house smells almost sticky sweet and like summer, I guess.

It was 8 kids of bedlam today and tonight: my three, my friend's two, plus two more short people. Pizza and popcorn and lemon ices. A movie watched in a half-assed kind of way (which is not at all) and tag. And gymnastics on the couch. (Poor couch.) R's friend, a sweet little 7 year old boy, came for a sleep over, his first ever. Which made the Giant Four Year Old more spazzy than normal. Oh the joy! A boy is in my house! thought he. Too bad they tried to ditch him most of the night.

Bedtime was easy, believe it or not, once I threatened GFYO with a life deprived of water guns, birthday parties, cupcakes, cereal bars, hockey sticks and Curious George (yes, I pulled out the big guns). It finally got quiet around 9pm.

It is now 10:15. About 30 minutes ago, that sweet little 7 year old boy wandered downstairs clutching his well-loved bear and trying very, very hard not to cry. He missed his mom; it's just that she snuggles with me, he said. We called her. She came. He put on his flip flops and he and teddy were out the door.

Maybe the honeysuckle is making me high or something, but it was all I could do to not cry myself. It was so stinkin' cute and made me feel all mom-like, comforting somebody's else's kid and making him laugh when I knew he felt sort of like a loser and sort of scared to death. And my own daughter, wrapped in a blanket bed-headed already, standing at the top of the stairs telling him it was okay and see ya later before sleepwalking down the hall to my bed (where her brother and sister were already snoring) just about put me over the sugary top.

I could go sleep in another bed tonight, in the Curious George sleeping bag I confiscated earlier if I wanted, but I won't. It's just that, even though I'll get kicked in the gut about fifty thousand times between now and the morning -- it's just that they snuggle with me too. So, little friend of R's, I get it.