In the grass...

Tonight was a great family night.  Not altogether different or more special than any previous night with my family except for the fact that we all laid down together in the grass in our backyard.  We have never done this before as a family.  I have laid down with Connor to see the stars or talk about cloud shapes and it's been wonderful.  I may have even laid down with Lane at one time or another back before little people came into our lives.  Cohen has never been still long enough to lay anywhere except in his crib sound asleep.  But tonight was the first time in the history of our family of four that we all ended up on our backs in the soft, cool grass, looking up at a perfect early evening sky filled with cloud shapes, beautiful colors, a crescent moon, and Jupiter.  It wasn't like this was a planned event that we orchestrated to foster a childhood memory for our boys...  although I hope with all my heart they will remember it when they're older.  The boys and I were just randomly -and I do mean RANDOMLY-playing 'Ring around the Rosey' in the grass after dinner on the patio, and we all fell down.  Then we just stayed there.  Connor laying in my right arm, Cohen in my left.  Lane came out and laid right down with us.  No blanket, no comments about itchy grass or bugs or needing to go to the bathroom.  Just me and my boys-all of them-right there in the grass of our backyard.  For a wonderful, beautiful, peaceful, unforgettable moment, I had that 'this life is perfect-there is nowhere else in the world I wish to be' feeling of overwhelming thanksgiving.  As I looked up at the sky with my little family, it was like standing at the edge of the ocean with the waves just at your feet and feeling so insignificantly small.  I have not had that feeling in awhile.  It was good to be flat on my back looking up at the Universe.  It felt so good to me.  And-as with all things-it was fleeting.  Cohen was the first to get up.  Connor was up right after him, only to tackle him back to the ground again.  Not so they could continue looking at clouds and think grateful thoughts to God and enjoy the 'oneness' moment their mother was experiencing, but only for the purpose of tackling, as boys do. They repeated this over and over again with Cohen getting back up to escape only to giggle loudly when his big brother came running after him, sending him back to the ground.  I grabbed Connor.  I picked him up so his feet weren't touching the ground, and I bear-hugged him.  I swung him around.  I told him that I loved him.  That he is a good boy.  That I am proud to be his mama.  That I am thankful God gave him to me.  Then I grabbed that little chubby-cheeked baby of mine and kissed those yummy cheeks almost raw.  Then I laid back down on my husband's chest and listened to Cohen giggle as Connor chased him down.  Sweet, sweet perspective.