As the lucky mother of a six-year-old son, I have had the great fortune of experiencing joy on a daily basis. This often happens during the most mundane and private moments of my life when I am least expecting it. And I am thankful every time.

Sitting on the pot and having small son fly into the bathroom with a Nerf gun shrieking “Gunfight, Mummy!” After the initial physical terror of being bombarded with soft projectiles in the midst of my morning constitutional and when my heart rate has slowed, I take a moment, and realize that having Son in my life has made even my toilet time a place where instead of being alone and bored, I now feel excitement. Also empathy for all our men in combat.

Having a bath and attacking the jungle that nature has given me for a bikini line, and in the middle of dangerous contortions with a razor, the young joy spreader flings open the door in all his urgency to share. The cute little look of horror and shock on his precious face as he looked at me and whispered “Mum, you cut your penis off.” Wow. Just, wow. I cannot describe what I felt looking at this little person and thinking of the adult he’ll become because of this moment. Almost breathtaking.

Giving the beautiful soul a kiss while he is sobbing. And with God’s perfect timing, having him sneeze a boat load of warm gooey snot at the exact second my mouth was aligned with his nose. Oh, the peals of laughter as he watched me gag and run for a towel! I knew then I had made his day.

Joy. Being a mother has opened me to joy. Plus a few nervous tics and a small drinking problem, but mostly joy.

8 thoughts on “Joy

  1. Congratulations on your new blog! I laughed all the way through this post in a somewhat shocked manner 🙂

    Von says to lock the door!

  2. Love the blog, as I was reading it reminded me how having boys is such an adventure. I can laugh in how much I can relate. Keep up the great work!!

  3. Love this post. I experiece a lot of joy at the hands of my kids too. My 2 yr old twins are particularly adept at spreading the joy. The boy vomited into my mouth while I was innocently twirling him in the air above my head. The girl regularly tweaks and pulls that which she should not. And my 5yr old doesn’t understand the concept of doors on bathrooms. Especially in public. And if she can’t get in, she will do a blow-by-blow on what you’re doing – just to ensure other public bathroom users know exactly what is happening every second, every single step of the process.

Go on. Talk to Mama Duck.

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