Make Mama Happy

O has started speaking in full sentences. Before he started talking, I couldn’t imagine what his little voice would sound like. Now, it seems strange to me that we spent more than a year with our little creature without him making real words; and even stranger, that it seemed so normal. First words, then short sentences, and now he has his own thoughts and memories. I am watching a person create himself and it is endlessly fascinating.

One of his new favorite sayings is “Make Mama happy? O make Mama happy!” and then he proceeds to make funny faces at me. This usually comes after he has done something he knows he shouldn’t have, and it is his attempt to “make up” with me. It works, of course, it’s too stinking cute.

But I hear his little voice echoing in my head all day, when I am not with him. “Make Mama happy?” And I can’t help but think, what would make me happy? What does make me happy?

The truth is, on days like today, when I watch him playing with a new stuffed monkey, pretending to feed it candy canes and then pretending to make the monkey burp, I can’t think of much that would make me happier. Sure, there are things that I want. There are things that would make my life easier, or things that I strive for, or things that I want to accomplish. But when boiled down to a little boy grinning up at me, I  want nothing else. This little guy, my husband, our family, that makes me happy.

Of course, If I’m being honest, there are other days, days like Sunday when he’s experimenting with the terrible twos, and I’m out of patience and let’s face it, not at my best. On those days, I think I would need two full-time nannies, a cook, and perpetual sunshine to make me happy.

This new question has also coincided with the Christmas season and the inevitable Christmas list. What do I want? The only thing I really want is time. Time to savor my little guy. Time to write, time to carve out a little piece for myself, so that I have more to give to my family. But you can’t really wrap up time, can you?

By the way, if my husband is reading this, since you can’t wrap up time, then how about some diamond earrings, a new Mac Airbook, or a trip to a beach, any beach? Hear me out here- diamond earrings are a symbol of time (the time that it takes for coal to become a diamond); the computer is light enough to slip into my purse, so I can steal away and write at lunchtime (buying some writing time); and a trip to the beach is in some way, a present of time. So yeah, diamond earrings, an Airbook, and a trip to the beach might just make mama a tiny bit happier. 


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