I have this weird thing with people who talk about being “busy”. As much as I, for the most part, am pretty good at letting people “do them” I am complete shit at that when people talk about how busy they are. It’s all relative, right? I have Facebook/blog friends who are moms to more than 10 children. 10. At any point when I feel a little overwhelmed by my “busy” I think about what it must feel like to feed/bathe/clothe that many people and I tip my pretend little hat.

I’m not that busy.

And really, I’m not.

My sister got married almost 2 weeks ago. I can’t wait to show you pictures. She was beautiful, my new brother-in-law was handsome. They were so happy. I am crying right now just remembering it all. It was absolutely beautiful. I’m so thankful they found each other. I love them both more than I can possibly put into words (which is why, on a sidenote, I did a flash mob as my matron of honor speech). Good times.

This weekend my hubby and I are heading out for some fun with friends. The thought of being with that guy with no kids makes me a little slap happy.

And the weekend after is Wine to Water. Lots of fun stuff coming up with that.

But this post is really about the fact that a few days ago Tariku asked if he could snuggle with me. Please re-read as many times as necessary.

My Tariku asked to snuggle with me (for the first time in 4 1/2 years).

I was hot and grumpy, talking to Zach about various things.

But I snuggled the shit out of my son, of course I did.

This boy who still shirks a good deal of my physical touch asked to snuggle after so many years.

I wanted you to know because things are really good with us, despite that, they really are. But man I didn’t know I had been missing that so much until his little body draped over mine.

So if you’re in the thick of the cringe-when-touched or any of the other stuff that we gladly (or not so) take on as adoptive mamas I just wanted you to know.

Carry on mama warriors. It’ll be worth it. Promise.

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