Sitting alone on the porch watching the clouds roll by, I hear my toddler open the door. Running out screaming and giggling at the top of his lungs while waving his tiny fists in the air. He runs right for a tire size puddle. Jumping up and down continuously he laughs, his little melodious laughs that really only a mother could get joy from. Watching the water come gushing out from between his tiny little toes and the water climbing up his pant legs, I laugh. The happiness a child can get from a puddle makes me realize how much the little things matter. Running to me as fast as his little baby feet can take him, he hugs me. The sweetest little show of love. He gets down and notices his wet overalls and tries to unlock the tiny brass buckles to get them off. Smiling at the determination on his face, causing his brow to crease and his mouth to pucker, I smile.

After a few minutes of watching Liam get more and more aggravated, I take his hand into my fairly young hands; I kiss them and tell him to continue playing. Happily, he claps his hands and heads back to the puddle. Being young, I still remember the days of puddle hopping and getting soaking wet and not caring. My goodness, the look of pure joy on his face makes me want to cry.

Through the window, directly behind my chair, I hear my mother yelling for Liam. Listening to her footsteps make the old redwood floors creak and the knick knacks rattle on the shelves. She finally comes to the door and releases a sigh of relief when she finds him outside with me. Opening the door, the hinges squeak like a petite mouse. I turn to her and watch as the sun reflects off her pale skin and dark hair. I see the intricate detail and array of colours in her self explanatory body art. A woman barely 37 and happier than ever to be a mother and grandmother to her favourite two people. My mother, the woman who accepts me and helps me with my playful trouble maker. The grandmother of my one year old son who cherishes her and the woman who takes care of him when I’m at school and doing homework.

But today, I get to spend my few hours of no work with the two people I would die for and give the world. With the sun shining down on this beautiful day, I get up and take my mother’s hand and pull her to the puddle where we all splash and mess around laughing all our troubles and worries away.