It was one of those moments, at the end of an ordinary day, where your whole heart opens up as you stroke your child's hair and peer into each other's heart. He dazed off and I just lay there with tears in my eyes, just so grateful to be these boys' mama.
I went to check on Z, and gently kissed his cheek as he lay sleeping. He woke a little, sat up, put out his hand, and said, "Can you hold this." I pretended to take whatever it was and said, "Yes. I got it." Then he smiled, lay back down, and said, "Mom."
Yes, dear boy. I will hold whatever you need me to.
It's a magnificent but sometimes daunting task, to be responsible for complete and utter miracles. The universe gave me the greatest gifts ever, and trusted me to raise and guide them. Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve such beauty. It's such an important task for an ordinary human, to raise babes with extraordinary love. Like I've said, nothing has ever opened my heart more.
I remind myself daily, in between, and in the awesome and not so awesome moments, how lucky I am.
I need to always slow down, reflect and pause.
Go when my name is called.
Say yes as often as possible.
Love unconditionally. Unconditionally. As my mother loves me.
Be grateful for their presence.
They truly are perfect little miracles, teaching me so much about myself every single day.
I am their mama.
I am one with them.
I am the one they trust and turn to.
I am the one to lead by example.
I am the one to learn through and with them.
I am there to listen to them.
I am always there for them, even if they have to call my name more than once.
When unpleasant or antsy thoughts pervade my mind I need to stop. Stop and think of the miracles before me.
The emotion is my signal. It is there for me to take notice of it. It's my chance.
It's my one and only chance to ask -can I sit with this?
It's my one and only chance to stop or go.
It's my one and only chance to respond how they need me to respond.
It's my one and only chance to surrender.
I screw up plenty. I lose my patience. I lose my temper. I yell. I'm far from perfect.
They've seen me at my best and at my worst. But above all, they see how I come back from the worst and take responsibility for it.
Can I truly be sorry and move forward when it happens? Can I show them that I mean it? Yes, I can.
I'm honored to be their mother.
Thank you, boys, for your unconditional love.
You are my whole heart.