Mother's Day

Today was a great day.  It was filled with little moments of wonder that only moms can fully appreciate.  It began with both kids sleeping late, Travis doing morning diaper changes and the kids surprising me with gifts and a sweet, stickered up card.  I think about how that little exchange sums up my life.  The life of a mother.  My currency changed the day I knew we were no longer two.  Whatever defined my worth, whatever I used to work hard for before then began to fall away.  Week by week.  Until the day we doubled and became a family of four.  On that day, I told myself that despite all the failures I knew were coming, if I could, at the end of each day, say that I had tried my best to do right by the closest things to pure light I have ever known, I will have succeeded.  On that day, I began to fully understand what a life changing thing sleep can be.  That day, I discovered what real gifts were.

And then this afternoon, Caden and I were talking as he played.  Me at the gate to the kitchen, he as he was mowing the front of our playroom with his John Deere.  And I walked away while he mowed, thinking he would continue on and I could finish attending to dinner.  This displeased him greatly and he ran to the gate pleading, "Mommy back looking!?!!"  I came right back and watched some more.  I made dinner wait, not my son. Which is, in fact, sort of what I think being a mom is about alot of the time.  Figuring out which thing to delay.  So that others can be prioritized.  To be the one who waits at the gate.  And watches.  The warrior in stretch pants who stands guard over her child.  The one who finds nothing more pressing in her day than to make her son know he is seen.  Heard.  And worth coming back for.  In his eyes, I am the judge who deems him worthy of love.  Attention.  And all things good.  The one to whom all other women in his life will be measured.

And then tonight, as we readied the children for bed, Addison asked me to hold her "like a tiny baby".  I wrapped her up in my old baby blanket, and as I laid her head in the crook of my arm she popped her thumb into her mouth, looked my face over and over with her forever eyes and remained otherwise motionless for several minutes as I rocked her and smiled back into the face of her infant self.  So small and cherubic as it slept.  So perfect and smooth as she nursed.  So in need of me.  Every waking moment of her little life.  I remembered how often I cried during those first days and nights as I held them.  I was awestruck by these tiny things I had been entrusted with.  Acutely aware of my inadequacies.  And purely, deeply grateful for their appearance in my ordinary life.

Yes, today was a good day.  One that made memories, and one that called so many others up.  Thoughts of my own mom.  The one who fed me.  Clothed me.  Taught me.  Laughed with me.  Made me question.  Dressed me up.  Drove me.  Picked me up.  Inspired me.  Coached me.  Carried me.  Danced and sang with me.  Challenged me.  Cried with me.  Heard me.  Watched over me.  Advised me.  Tended to me.  LOVED me.  With every breath she breathed as she planned for my arrival.  And in every moment since then.  With her body she gave me life.  With her heart she shaped my soul.  With her wisdom she gave me grace.  With her selfless service she gave me my worth.  With her everything, she gave me...  me.

I know this because, just like her, my everything is not my own.  Just like her, I give.  I do.  I love.  And like she did it for me, I do it for them.  The only people in the world that know what my heart sounds like from the inside.