Slow-motion movie moments. Or how to read a book with little boys.

Photo Credits: Jelis & Joses Van Calster

The oldest one is first. Because that is just propper, you know. He was first, after all. His eyes are brown, his hair is resisting the brush today, standing up in it’s sandy brown glory. His legs are perfect, tanned brown and with some mud streaked on for the image factor.

The younger one waddles after him. He’s been walking for a long time?now, but the duck-like waddle stubbornly stays. He sways this way and that, narrowly missing a fall that would make the bumps on his forehead an even 4. The little man bends down to retrieve a fallen treasure…a wrinkled potato, and goes of the steps backwards. He starts crawling way to early, and keeps waiting for the step to go down.

Once he is safely off, he runs after his brother.Big boy goes in the baby swing, and little boy goes into the big boys swing. Because that is how they like it. They sit, brown eyes turned expectantly on me, blue eyes squinting in the sun while doing the same.

So there we go. We push.?I run inside to get my very own treasure that is Surprised by Motherhood by Lisajobaker. Now we are all happy. I push some chocolate chips drops into their little mouths and they open like little birds.

A push, and a sentence. A push, and a sentence. We swing and we read and when they get tired I lift them out with a grunt because those are the moments where you can’t imagine the Fibromyalgia away.

A run in the green grass and a tumble and our day goes on. We’ve had a slow-motion movie moment without the happy music playing anyway.

Our music? Two laughing little boy, just the way I like it.