2 for 1: "what my mother told me" & "primal screams"

Part One: "what my mother told me"
A post on Facebook from The MOB society prompted this question: where do you, as a mother to boys, go for some down time?  This post just hit me in a spot that had been sore for weeks... between my 7 month old boy, my 5 year old boy, my husband, my job, my own postpartum issues and my other obligations, I have been drowning.  Throw in delaying grief of my grandfather's death (because I was pregnant when he passed) and the upcoming holidays,  I have been working hard to hold the dam of the tears to keep from erupting.... but I felt that I was about to burst wide open with all the pressure I felt mounting on me.  This past Friday, I thought I was going to break with it all... as much as I love every single bit about my life, there are seasons of so much busy-ness that I just get plumb over-stimulated by all the noise and movement.  My boys seem to thrive and become more energized by it all... I just have to work not to shut-down.  So I typed a frantic text message to my mother as I sat in the parking lot of the grocery store: "How in the world did you do it all when we were little?"  By the time I got home, she had written back, "close the doors to the bedrooms and the laundry room, and get on the floor and play with them... they won't be little for long."  

And I took a deep breath after I lugged everyone and everything into the house... I put the groceries up quickly... and I got on the floor and played with my boys.  Something broke in me at that moment.  

So where do I go for some down time?  In the midst of this wonderful mess of a life?  I guess I go into that place in my heart where I sit down and count my blessings and let go of all the rest....

Part Two: "primal screams"
I guess it's no wonder that I have two boys of my own.  The majority of my caseload is boys.  But I saw a transaction between my own two that solidified what I've known in theory about boys:  My oldest (stripped down to his skivvies) looked at his little bother (who was in nothing but his diaper) and just screamed this primal scream.  Before I could say, "sshh! you are making my ears bleed!"  my baby clamped his little hands into fists and bore out this weaker version, but just as passionate primal scream.  They went back and forth with these primal screams for several exchanges... And they both laughed and squealed.  They communicated and bonded in that moment in a kind of ritual that girls don't engage in.  And I thought about how things had changed between my first born and I after I got down on the floor and played with him on Friday... changed for the better.  And I thought about what I had learned in graduate school about learning styles and strengths in boys: how they are often more kinesthetic and tactile in their play and learning styles.  And I think I actually heard the light bulb ding on over my head... physically playing more with the boys = deeper bond with mommy