The breeze is blowing through my hair as I push the purple double swing. I'm watching both boys, and they're both grinning, holding tightly to the metal chains. Henry leans back and forth, trying to propel them higher in between my pushes. It's quiet aside from the squeak of the chains and the babble between two brothers.
It's 11:15 on a Thursday afternoon and I'm at the park with my sons. These are the moments I dreamed of when we talked about making me a work-at-home mom. The moments that I get to do something I never would've dreamed about when I had a traditional job, are the ones where I realize just how fortunate I am to be in this position. I get to stay home with my two beautiful boys, I get to teach them, I get to play with them, I get to be with them. Not only that, but I get to pursue the biggest dream I've ever had in building my own business while walking beside these boys.
There are moments, plenty of them, where I wonder why I wanted to do this. Where I've yelled for the seventieth time by ten a.m., where I've cleaned up spit up off my shirt more times than I can count, where I get to two in the afternoon and realize I haven't eaten anything all day. And there are the moments where I sit down after a long day and just want to stare at a wall and plot my return to the corporate world.
But then there are days like this one. The days where I get to drop everything on a Thursday afternoon because it's in the mid-seventies outside for the first time in weeks, and go spend the morning at the park. Or, I get to wake up on a Wednesday and think "let's spend the afternoon at the Children's Museum!". Or, when my sister has surgery, I can go and stay with her for a few days because I don't have a job to get up and go to. Those are the days that I am beyond thankful for. That have me grinning in the middle of the day just because I'm the one who is getting to sit there watching this bond form between my boys. Not daycare this time. I am the one who gets to see it. And it's something I'm still not quite used to. This feels like an extended vacation, one that I hope never ends.
We're the only ones here for the moment. It's our own private kingdom. "Mommy, look how much he likes this!" Henry shouts to me. And it's true, he does. Harrison likes anything that has to do with his brother.
We keep swinging for a few more minutes as we see a few more families, mostly grandparents and grandchildren, walking towards the playground. Soon our kingdom will be overrun by others. Henry will see a friend he used to know from daycare and run off to play with him. Harrison will go back to people watching as we sit together on a swing.
And then, when the time creeps closer to lunch, we'll load back up in the car and head home. I'll feed them, put them down for naps, and then fix myself lunch. And as I sit in the worn brown recliner watching mindless TV while the crackle of the monitor plays in the background, I'll smile and think yet again how grateful I am.
Tomorrow is a new day, and it might not be this good, but today? Today is perfect.