my momma's day

As the boys get older, it feels like my Mother's Days get sweeter. Maybe it is the knowledge that I will not always wake up to little voices and sweet hand-written notes as they grow older and more independent. Maybe it's because I am finally out of the fog of infant sleeplessness and toddler-hood. Maybe it's because everyday, the kindness and sweetness of these boys takes my breath away, even in the midst of chaos. This year really felt just perfect. I awoke to little Ian handing me a note covered in hand-drawn hearts, as only a 4 year old could do. David made me waffles and bacon and all three boys surprised me with handmade gifts - Ian, a keychain with his drawing and his picture; Merritt, a card with his artwork on the front and a poem about me on the inside that he wrote; Gavin, a card hand-written in French. During church, Merritt slipped me a note that says "I love my mom."  Ian, who is suddenly very aware and concerned that some day David and I will be alone in the house when the three of them grow up ("What will you do, mom?" he asks), whispered "Happy Mother's Day" as he drifted off to sleep this evening. Gav came down the stairs well past his bedtime to wish me the same before Mother's Day was over.

And since David was working tonight, we decided to have a Mother's Day meal…at CookOut.

Being the mom of these 3 guys gives me such satisfaction and joy. 

I am doing what I should be doing, and I am loving it.

Can someone tap me on the shoulder tomorrow and remind me of that, when it isn't Mother's Day anymore and the craziness of a new week has started?

Sometimes it is easy to lose focus of the big picture and the passing days/years. 

The other night at dinner I was mentioning to David and the boys that I had heard on the radio that if moms were paid for what they did (cooking, cleaning, childcare, etc) that they would earn about $60,000 a year. We talked about it a little and laughed, and I had forgotten about the conversation.

Until.

I was doing dishes and the boys were upstairs brushing teeth and preparing for bed. I heard little footsteps coming down the stairs, and as I turned to tell the little person to go get their PJs on, I discovered Merritt standing before me, with $1.10 in change in his sticky little palm.

"For you, mom. Because you do a lot for me."

Conviction to be a better mom. Gratefulness for the tender hearted children I have been given. Tears for his utter sweetness and my lack of patience when things get crazy. Laughter and tears for his absolute innocent gesture of gratitude.

Ah, motherhood.