“You really like your kids.”
I’ve heard it more than once.
And it’s true. I do.
I love you and I like you.
And though I don’t believe in giving you everything you ask for,
I believe in giving you what you didn’t even know you needed.
I believe in giving you more opportunities than things.
And so we go and we do.
Or we stay and we do.
But we do a lot.
We ride scooters in the driveway.
And create chalk masterpieces together.
And play UNO and Trouble until my eyes cross.
I do it not because I think I should, but because I want to.
Because I do…I like you.
And I like doing things with you.
And I like playing and having fun.
We color and cut and glue.
We sing and dance around the house like wild things.
We do science experiments and ‘raise’ butterflies and ladybugs.
And it is as miraculous to me as it is to you.
I sit back and marvel at the Creator who created you
as you lean in closely and marvel at the Creator who created caterpillars.
I do things like decorate the Adventure Van
And build forts and eat under the table
And dance in the rain
Because it makes you smile.
And I get to hear your laugh.
And it warms my heart and my soul beyond what I knew was possible.
And, sure, there are moments (days, even) when all I want is quiet.quiet.quiet.
And I yell.yell.yell.
And those days come, but they come less often than they used to.
And I am so very grateful.
I am so glad we’ve gotten to where we are –
This comfortable place that I know won’t last forever.
(I know it all too well and so I really revel in the now.)
I thank God so, so often for the opportunity to be your mother.
I don’t think that motherhood defines who I am, but it certainly has helped me refine who I am.
And as you change and grow, I do as well.
I want to thank you, but you wouldn’t understand.
You won’t for years to come,
But one day I hope that you’ll read these words
And know how truly, overwhelmingly thankful I am.
I like you.
I like being with you.
I like the person I am because of you.
And I hope that you will always like you.
Because you? You are spectacular.