MY Babies

Sometimes, I so miss having small children around the house.

I read on blogs elsewhere, of teeth- pulling antics, little boys peein' on trees, little girls running about, clad only in frilly, pink panties, and fort-building in living rooms.

No Disney plays in the coonass crib any more. No child seeks me out for a band-aid, and a kiss to, "make it betta, Mommie".
No more giggles to a child's request for "panna cakes", "squaffles", or "chicken n dunkilens".

The joy I once had picking out lil outfits for a step-daughter, taken from me, long ago...gone.

She, Brewer, came to us (my X and I), when she was two, and her "Step-Momster" loved her dearly.
When she was 6, she asked me to stop referring to myself in that manner.
"Mommie says, you love me just like you love Wes and Kris, so you're my second mommie! You're not a momster!"
I haven't seen her in years. Her mother remarried, and thought it best.

My oldest, Kristopher, is grown and gone, having joined his beloved Marine Corps, before he needed to shave.
He's been deployed twice, and will go again. He loves his job. He can be a "tree", a "rock", the "sand". He is most deadly, but he is still, and always will be, my baby.

My Wes is 16, a bohemian artist-type, with a beard...all 6 ft., and two hundred pounds of him.
While not under my watchful gaze, as he does his home-schoolin', he's off with his buds (and gurls! grrrrr), or workin' on his "guns" at the gym.
My baby will, most likely, follow in his big bro's footsteps, as both were raised with a strong love of God and country.

My babies...
I still see 'em, in my mind's eye...my babies.
They grew up, so fast...my babies.