Fun-Loving and Fancy Free

OK, not quite. Let's just call me a work-in-progress. You know, Rome wasn't built in a day!

First I must confess my sins.

I admit to racing around my house at a frantic pace in preparation for my mother-in-law's visit -- ensuring all surfaces were clean, my two year old's last meal wasn't stuck to the floor, and the cracker spill in the pantry made it into the vacuum. Is that a sin, or is it survival? Full awareness of the Mother-in-law News Network (MNN for short), fills me with forboding. In the end my race began too late and I got caught in cleaning mode -- a much better impression, the smell of Mr. Clean in the kitchen and the vacuum out in the living room.

I also admit to a harried and treacherous cross-city trip in a snowstorm -- just to make it to my son's hockey game. Why? Isn't that what hockey moms do? Alone with my children while hubby is away somewhere across the world, I've been tasked with getting son #1 to all scheduled hockey activities while dragging along 2 year old son #2. Normally, the feat of pushing the stroller carrying the bulky and heavy hockey bag the length of a soccer field into the arena is enough, yesterday it was through slushy snow, and a chilling wind. That's only the beginning -- gearing up son #1 in a crowded, sweaty dressing room while son #2 runs away, screams, and eats cheerios off the floor (yeach) is another. Definitely, I am a warrior!

OK, there was another, even more tell-tale sin. Yes, I did decline an invitation to a movie with my brother and his wife. The decision was easier than it should have been. After all, I've been on my own with the boys for two weeks, been sole-provider and caregiver. A night out was not only warranted but important for sanity. My excuse? There was a blinding snow storm, you know! The fifteen minute drive was too much to consider after spending over an hour on the road for hockey and another hour in a cold arena. Sensible, don't you think?

Finally, down to the good stuff.

My precious moment yesterday? Once the rucus and commotion of gearing up a seven-year-old for hockey was done. Son #2 and I took to the stands armed with popcorn and a pop for the big game. With sweet innocence my, normally unstoppable, little boy sat on my lap taking everything in with rapt attention. He oohed at the ref as he blew his whistle. He called out his brother's name and cheered as he went by. He jumped when the crowd roared; at first searching my eyes in fear, and then; recognizing the positive energy, clapping and roaring in kind. Together we cheered and laughed, feeling the action and excitement on the ice. Through the eyes of my two year old an average hockey game was transformed into a wondrous and exciting event filling me with renewed excitement, pride and happiness. At that moment I knew, I was right where I needed to be. And everything else? It was worth the precious 60 minutes of bliss.