We took our trip to Baltimore this weekend and had a lovely time. We visited the Maryland Science Center and Port Discovery Children’s Museum as planned, went out to eat, and Zippy chased seagulls along the Inner Harbor (which was probably his favorite part of the trip, in which case we could have saved ourselves those pricey museum admissions!). But my favorite parts of the weekend were moments that we didn’t plan and couldn’t have if we had tried.
It was already past the boys’ bedtime when we arrived at our hotel Saturday night. We read stories and sang songs and tried to stop an overexcited Zippy from jumping on the bed and convince Bee that it was in fact bedtime. I finally shut the bedroom door, at which point Bee promptly started crying. (We always try to get a 2-room suite when we stay at a hotel, so that Hubby and I can read or watch tv after the boys go to bed. So in this case the boys were on an air mattress in the “living room.”) The crying didn’t last long, because on the other side of the door Zippy began talking to his brother. Hubby and I stood with our ears pressed against the door, unable to make out exactly what was being said but hearing the murmur of little voices back and forth, then Zippy singing his little brother to sleep.
The next morning, when Bee woke, we heard it again. The murmur of little boy voices, but this time accompanied by giggles. What do a 2-year-old and a 5-year-old talk about when they are alone, I wonder? It’s a mystery, except that Zippy later admitted a scheme that involved raiding the (empty) refrigerator. Knowing them, I imagine there was also some conversation about poop.
Oh, this is what I want for my boys! For theirs to be the voices that
comfort one another in the dark. To be best friends, co-conspirators in
schemes and escapades. As Bee gets older, I see them developing a relationship that is all their own. In spite of the teasing and the spats over toys, there is a beautiful bond emerging.
Sunday we had a late lunch and watched out the restaurant window as the runners who had just finished the Shamrock 5K milled around in their fluorescent green t-shirts, some in crazy socks and green wigs. Bee was exhausted, having missed his nap and stayed up way too late the night before. He fell asleep in my arms right there at the table, his sweet little mouth mushed up against my arm, his warm, soft body snuggled up in my lap, just like he used to do as an infant. I can’t remember the last time he just slept in my arms like that or that I slowed down enough to let him. It was heavenly.
It was a wonderful reminder that the best road trips have nothing to do with where you go or what you do, but are all about who you are with.