We had dinner around 6 last night and then the kids went outside to see the kittens, leaving me in the quiet house alone. I had just settled in here at the computer when Sam busted through the back door and said, "Momma! (pant pant) Daddy wants me to ask you if you want to go riding 4-wheelers! Okay? Momma? Momma! Quit blogging and look at me! Daddy asked me to ask you do (pant) you (pant) wanttoridethe4wheelersbecauseweall (pantpant)doandweneedyoutogo!" I turned and looked at him in utter disbelief that he wasn't passed out dead on the floor from oxygen deprivation after that outburst. I said that sure, I'd like to go ride and the child let out a warhoop that my Native American ancestors would've been proud of.
I got on the old 4-wheeler with Kady in front, Abby behind. Mr. Diva and Sam got on the new one and off we went. We drove out around the neighbor's wheat/corn/soybean fields, saw a few deer, smelled lots and lots of cowshit, got hit with a couple of errant limbs, found several wild turkey feathers that Sam stuck in his baseball cap, I inhaled about 47 bugs and got whipped with Kady's flying hair, but man did we have a good time.
It was nearly sunset, the air was cooler, and it smelled like summer when I was a kid. Most of the time we rode front/back, but when the path widened we'd ride side by side. Mr. Diva would slow down and I'd catch up and when I'd pull up even with them, Sam would look over at me and smile and wink. There he was in jean shorts and John Deere ballcap with big ol' turkey feathers hanging off of it, dirty little freckled face all smilin' at me, leaning back on the rack like he was the coolest kid in school and then he winked and honest to gosh I fell in love with that kid all over again. My heart did this little hitch thing and I caught my breath and thought "I did that! I made him!" It was a staggering moment.
As we rode I pointed out to the girls the girls trumpet vine that was growing all over the place, telling them that when I was a kid Papa Leo had that vine growing all over the well house. All of the grandkids would spend hours out there pulling off the unopened buds and popping them. Abby was like "Whoo, Mom. That sounds like not very much fun, popping flowers." But when we finally found some close enough to the road that I didn't have to risk life and limb to pick and I handed those girls a cluster of unopened buds and they popped to their heart’s content - well, that's when I earned me some major Cool Mom points. We rode down to the creek and up another mile section, the air getting cooler by the minute, the sun setting lower and lower. Abby said her rear was hurting so I scooted up some on the seat so she could, too. She scooted up close, wrapped her skinny little arms around my (slightly smaller) waist and rested her cheek against my back while we rode. Again, I was struck with an overwhelming rush of love for my child. It was so simple, so pure.
We turned around to head back home when Abby leaned up and said into my ear, "Mom . . .let’s leave ‘em in the dust." And with that I hit the accelerator and literally left my boys in the dust. Abby’s arms got tighter around my waist, her hands knotting up my shirt in the front. Kady’s hair was streaming out behind her and she was squealing and laughing. The boys caught up with us and we rode for nearly a mile goosing the gas and pulling ahead of the other. When we slowed down at the bridge to cross without choking the standing fishermen, Kady turned around and grinned at me, the remnants of dinner’s PB&J still around her mouth, dirt smudged on her cheeks, hair wild and I found myself choked up with emotion. This child was so pure, so innocent and so in love with life. And I had made her squeal in delight with something as simple as making the wind rush by her faster and making the smells and sounds of summer flash by quicker.
When we reached home again and pulled the 4-wheelers back up under the carport, everyone dismounted (Abby and I fluffing our hair and fixing our bangs as we Hoover Divas are kind of hair-obsessed.) and Abby leaned over against me and said, "I wanna do that again every night for the rest of my life."
Simply awesome.
I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
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2 comments:
Awwwwww. How sweet!
Once upon a time, my little troublemaker hugged me and said, "Mom, I am your gift from above." And that was so sweet that I actually had tears in my eyes. But then he went on to say "And (brother) is your gift from below." So much for that tender moment!
AAAWW! I have alot of mommy moments too! I only have one though. And I am thankful everyday. Oh I love 4 wheelers! We always had three wheelers, then a four wheeler, motor cycles while growing up. Love driving them in the snow!!!Talk about fun!!
Shannon
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