Angel Kisses

When The Kid was little, I was a busy mom.  I was the mom you saw at Wal-Hell dragging her toddler by the arm, The Toddler's legs resembling Fred Flinstone's driving his car, as she rushed to try to keep up with me.

I had errands, dangit.

Hurry up.  Ain't nobody got time for that.

I had to go to the bank and the cleaners and the grocery store and the post office.  I didn't have time for little hands to get grubby picking up every single tiny loose rock in the parking lot to put in a pocket.  How many times had I washed clothes and in the bottom of the washer there would be gravel or a coke tab or a dead bug or a wrapper or a piece of chewed gum? I didn't even let her chew gum!  Gross!   I didn't have time for her to pick up stray pieces of someone else's discarded gum for her to try to sneak.

I was busy with my child, dang it.

And I was totally missing my the best moments of our shared life, by being wrapped up in myself and my "busy-ness."

The Toddler had been talking since forever.  She started stringing words into sentences before she was a year old.    She was completely understandable before she was 18 months.  

On this day, she was rapidly approaching three years old.

I had her by the hand as we were walking through a busy parking lot.  I was in a hurry, of course, as I was every day, trying to prove I could be an awesome mom and a kick-ass housewife, unknowingly failing at both.

We were rushing through the lot, when I was jerked to a stop.   The Toddler was squatting in the trash that was piled up against the curb. To my horror, she picked up something, brought it to her mouth, hugged herself, and then shoved her now-dirty hand into her pants pocket.

Visions of digging someone's chewed gum out of my child's mouth had me retching as I demanded, "What did you put in your mouth?"

"Nuffin."

"I saw you put something in your mouth!  What was it?"

"Nuffin."

"Don't lie to Momma, baby girl," I reminded, as I was already leaning down to the finger sweep.

She was right.  There was nothing there.

"What did you swallow?"

"Nuffin."

Praying that "nuffin" wouldn't kill her, make her deathly ill, or give her explosive diarrhea before we could make it home, I continued on my busy way.

We made it into the store before the events repeated themselves.  I was jolted to another stop by thirty-five pounds of  obstinate three year old.  There in the middle of the frozen food aisle,  The Toddler began repeating her little ritual.  Something to her mouth. A beautiful smile.  A self-hug.  Hand in the pocket.

"Hey!  You just did it again!" I yelped.

The Kid looked up and, dangit, if she didn't give me the cutest chubby-cheeked grin.

"What's in your mouth?"

"Nuffin, momma.  Told you dat!" she replied, her tiny pigtails bobbing as she nodded her in head in agreement with herself.

"Let me see your mouth."

She obediently opened her mouth.

Nothing again.

We finished the grocery store with no more "nuffin" events and headed to the cleaners.

This time, we didn't even make it into the building before we crashed to a stop.    There was my kid digging through the muck and the trash on the ground. Another smile. Something to the mouth.  Another hug.  Hand in pocket.

Nothing had been in her mouth each time I checked.  Whatever she was doing, she had to be putting it in her pocket.

I'm a little slow, but I'll get there in the end.

As soon as she finished her ritual, I said, "Let me see what's in your pocket, baby girl."

Proudly, she put her dirty little hand in her pocket and pulled out a hand full of something, but kept her fist tightly clamped.

"Let me see!"

The Toddler immediately clutched it to her chest. "Mine, Momma!  Not yours!"

"Please, let Momma see?"

"They're mine.  You can't have them!'

"Honey, I don't want them.  I just want to see what they ARE." (And then I might want them).

"Dey are my Angel Kisses, Momma!"

I was confused.  "Angel Kisses," I repeated.

"Jes!   See, God tinks bout me all de time!  He loves me!   When he tinks bout me, he send an angel down fwom Heaven wit a kiss.  De angel leaves it fo me.  I find it and it makes me happy.   I give God a kiss, hug Him, and put His kiss in my pocket.  It makes me happy 'cause he tinks bout me.   He tinks bout you, too, Momma.  Do you find His kisses?"

"Let me see His kiss, baby girl."

She unfurled her grubby little fingers, and there in her chubby fist lay three of these.

I smiled.

"See Momma?  God's pic-sur  is even on it.  Dat's how you know it's Him!  Look for dem, Momma.  Dey are everywhere 'cause he tinks about you ...a lot."

I always wondered what God looked like.   Who knew the answer was Abraham Lincoln?

That moment taught me to slow down.   I didn't have to go everywhere and do everything.  I didn't have to try to be perfect.  I wasn't.  And that's okay.    I needed to spend time with my baby girl.    I was so busy looking to the next thing, trying to accomplish the next item, I didn't see what was right in front of me.  Instead of stopping and smelling the roses, I needed to stop and find the Angel Kiss.

When I found a penny this morning as I was walking in the school building, I smiled.  God was tinking bout me.

Look around the next time you are out and about and  rushing around.   I bet you find, he's tinking bout you, too!


**  Those of you who are super-savvy may have noticed that I changed the picture.   I realized that picture I had up was mislabeled and was actually the first day of Kindergarten and not the first day of PreK.  This one is the right picture.   :)