Sometimes, I get slightly obsessed with a song. I download it, play it over and over again, watch random Youtube videos of the song, copy and paste the lyrics in my facebook...you know, get obsessed. And then the song gets old and I don't listen to it so much anymore. Usually this happens with songs that are on the radio a lot..."Blame It On the Alcohol," "Low," "Turn My Swag On"...usually it's nonsense or just feel good music.
Lately though, it's been a song from WAY back when that has me weepy, emotional, and rocking out at least 5 times a day. It's "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Now, being a Southern girl, I've listened to my fair share of Skynyrd, but almost always the standards of "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Freebird" with the occasional "Tuesday's Gone" and "That Smell." That's about it for me. Last Friday at graduation, they played this song during the senior slide show. You'd have to know my seniors to understand why, but many of the boys in that class are only children, momma's boys, and good ole country boys. I had seen the slide show 5 or 6 times before that night, but I didn't really listen to the music until that night. Then I went home and googled the song on the song list that was next to the CD. And I love it. LOVE.
It is the perfect advice for my own son, my only son, my momma's boy (who awakens at 4:30 a.m. and ONLY wants his Momma). When I was pregnant, I said I wanted a Momma's Boy. And that is precisely what I got. And I love it. I saw all those big 18 year old young men at graduation crying while they gave their mommas flowers, saw their mommas beaming with pride (and relief!) as their baby boys walked across that stage. I hadn't realized it until I sat there listening to the song and watching this unfold that I am part of that club--I'm a Momma and my baby boy is going to be a grown man one day. But for now, I'm #1 and I'm loving it. He has his Daddy to throw football with him, show him how to shoot a basketball, throw him in the air, run around with him, push him REALLY fast in the shopping cart, and hold him upside down like a rag doll until he squeals....He has his Paw to give him anything he wants, to show him how to use a knife to cut food, to give him ice cream and Pop Tarts for breakfast. But he has his Momma for everything else--to cuddle, snuggle, kiss boo boos, teach him to spell his name, count to 30, say please and thank you, give high fives, hold books and crayons properly, use the potty, wash his hands and face, to always be the one who knows when he needs a blanket or a special toy, to be the one to decode what he's saying in the midst of a tantrum and be there to kiss his hot cheeks when it is over.
And all I want, son, is for you to be satisfied.