The other night, I almost had a melt-down. In the car. While driving from Sizzler, of all places, with my two exuberant nephews in the back and PG sitting next to me in the passenger seat.
It was one of those sneak-up-on-you-when-you-least-expect-it moments that grab you by the heart strings and pull so tight that you think you might die. From the pain of the pure joy you are experiencing. Right there in that ten minute car ride from the all-you-can-eat buffet to home with two boys you adore.
Who'd have thought that loud raucous laughter, music cranked to the highest volume you have ever had it in this car and hilarious quotes from the nephews could ever make you feel like crawling into the foetal position and crying your heart out for that which you do not yet have? I know, I didn't believe it possible either. Until then.
"People will think we are P-platers with the music this loud!" the older one yells through LMFAO's Party Rock Anthem as he begins to slide the window down.
We were almost at the boys' house to celebrate the younger one's eighth birthday with a huge fighter jet cake made by his mum when I wanted to lose my shit. Smiling through the huge tears welling up in my eyes, I pretended nothing was wrong and kept soaking in the moment.
Dreaming that one day, this would be us. Our family. In this car. Laughing loudly at something one of the kids had said, singing and dancing to an iPod cranked to full volume and loving every minute of it.