Mahma Mahma

Spring break has finally come to Chez Love Well, so to celebrate, we had family movie night last night and watched the new Muppets movie. (And honestly? It was a little weird. Maybe it's because neither my kids nor my husband have ever seen the Muppets in action before. But I found myself laughing and then trying to explain why Gonzo sleeping with the chickens was funny or why Beaker only says meep-meep-meep and why the old guys sit and criticize the show even though they are obviously apart of it. Seen from a third-party perspective, I realized the Muppets are an acquired taste.)

(Then the movie ended and all the stars started in with the Mahna Mahna song, and Corey looked at me like I had just exposed our babies to a bad 60s drug trip. And then his own children started to sing along, which almost made his head explode. All I can say is: Thank you Pandora Elmo channel for educating my children in pop culture. Maybe someday they will be able to win the pink slice of pie in Trivial Pursuit, unlike their father who can get everything but.)

Of course, I say "we" watched the movie so glibly, when parents all know: toddlers don't watch movies. Kieran was mildly interested in the opening sequence. Then he was, "All done, Mama. All done!" So I sat sat the kitchen table with my cuddly, beguiling, brown eyed son and played "Yegos" instead.

I'm still not sure what we were really doing. It doesn't matter anyway. He would hand me a guy and then take another guy in his chubby fist and say, "Aye-yah!" I would respond by making my guy do a roundhouse in the air worthy of scene from Matrix which would culminate in a blow to the head of Kieran's guy. He would make an "I've suffered a blow" noise, which is something only boys can do, and retaliate by knocking my guy out of my hand and across the table.

There were moments when I thought our guys might be friends. Sometimes, my guy would hold out his hand and Kieran would say "high pive" and I would die from the cute.

And then there was the time I knocked his guy under the table and his head fell off and Kieran said, "Danged it!" which made my head fall off from laughter.

But mostly, I just played along, swooping and swishing and battling and befriending. Kieran's eyes glowed with delight. When he smiles, his whole face just crinkles. I couldn't stop staring at him, drinking in every moment of toddlerhood.

The one time he seemed to grow interested in the movie (or more correctly, in he loud noises coming from the screen), I got up from the table only to find him grabbing my hand away from the dishwasher. "Come on, Mama. Come on!"

Kieran loves many things right now. Heck, he loves most things. He is intense and most of the time, that means he is intensely happy.

But no one can touch my status with him these days. I am Mama, his confident and comforter, best friend and favorite cook. I am the Chief Book Reader before bed, and I am the only one he wants to cuddle with in the middle of the night.

And you know what? I love it. I know this phase is over all too quickly. I can't get enough of that boy right now, with all his giggles and belly and voracious joie de vivre.

I am ecstatic to be ... Mahma-Mahma. (Doo-Doo-Doo-Doo.)