Dearest Asa,
I love hearing you call out “bawl. bawl. bawl.”   Hundreds of times a day I hear this word. You love all kinds of balls. And anyone who has ever met you agrees that you’re destined to be an athlete.

Your “eye teeth” are coming in, and I’m kind of sad that your baby smile is so quickly becoming a big kid smile.  (And why are they called eye teeth?  That makes no sense what-so-ever!)

Your laugh is infectious.  You love your big sister.  You are constantly trying to keep up with your big brother.  You don’t talk a lot, but it’s obvious that you comprehend plenty.

You haven’t started saying “no” yet, but I’m sure it’s coming.  You hear it enough lately because you’re really testing those limits.

But you, my barely-a-baby-anymore baby, soothe my chaotic heart and mind like no other.  And I love you.

Love, Mommy

***

Dear Lydia,

I can’t believe how still you sit when I braid your hair.  I love your long silky hair when it’s down, but it sure is cute in double french braids.  You look like an American Girl doll.  My whole life I dreamed of having a little girl to dress up and fix hair and put make-up on.

You are so motherly to your brothers, yet strong-willed and opinionated.  I love that even when you were the littlest kid at a new friend’s house, you didn’t hesitate to stand up for yourself when you felt slighted at play time.  You show ’em who’s boss…ok, kid?

I also love that when we went to see a local high school production of Beauty and the Beast, you looked at the girl playing Belle(who happened to be African-American) and said(in all honesty): “There’s something different about this Belle…but I just can’t quite put my finger on it.”  I may have teared up.  Just a little.

I love your sympathy, your compassion, your giggle, your eyes.  I love you.

Love, Mommy

***

Dear Carter,

I’m excited about this week.  You finished up with school last week, but Lydia still has a few more days.  I’m looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with you.  You’re so content being by yourself that sometimes you get lost in the shuffle and I’ll realize it’s been weeks since we’ve done something just the two of us.

You are so incredibly smart.  I love how we have begun to have “grown up conversations” lately.  Today at church you asked about communion.  As I quietly whispered my response to you, you nodded your head and stared out into space.  That’s your thinking look.  When I see you looking straight ahead at nothing in particular, I know you’re processing.  Your dad does the same thing.  I’ll be ready and waiting when the questions come.  God help me explain it well.

You are tough and sensitive all at once.  You love to cuddle and hug and love on others, but you also play hard and love to get dirty.  I am proud of you who are, and who you are becoming.  And I’m having a hard time believing that you’re old enough to go to “big school”.  Hopefully I’ll wrap my mind around that by the time you start in August.

My dear firstborn, oh how I love you.

Love, Mommy

We ate lunch with my grandparents on Friday.
I am always amazed at them-
My Nana, quiet but attentive.
My Papa, boisterous and fun.
And while age may have slowed them down,
It surely hasn’t taken away their personalities,
their perfectly complementary personalities.

We went to buy plants for a vegetable garden.
And they knew I had no clue what I was doing.
And they guided me.
Told me what to buy.
How to plant.
What kind of watering can to use.

And they were proud.
And they were happy.

And I was proud.
And I was happy.

And it took my breath away.
And maybe brought a few tears to my eyes.
Because I know that it won’t always be like this.

***

Today we planted our garden.
The children got messy, and so did I.
I squished my toes in the dirt.
I felt the sun on my skin.
They dug holes with their hands,
And stomped around on the topsoil to make it “nice and fa-lat”.
(We’re from the south, ya know?  All words must be at least 2 syllables long here!)

And I was proud.
And I was happy.

And they were proud.
And they were happy.

And it took my breath away.
And maybe brought a few tears to my eyes.
Because I know that it won’t always be like this.

***

Tonight we went to hear my brother’s band play.
He’s really good.  They’re really good.
And they had some amazing guests sitting in with them.

My parents were there,
And we sat together sans children.
Which was nice for a change…

They played “good ol’ songs”.
And some reggae.
And some country.
And some originals.

And as my oh-so-musical family sat there singing a long to “Quinn the Eskimo” and “Dang Me“,
I thought this is it…my life is perfect.

And I am proud.
And I am happy.

And they are proud.
And they are happy.

And it took my breath away.
And maybe brought a few tears to my eyes.
Because I know that it won’t always be like this.

***

What more could I ask for on Mother’s Day than to be proud and happy?
And to have the opportunity to make others proud and happy?

Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.