This morning my 5-year-old son proudly presented to me a small, rectangular gift, carefully wrapped in petal pink paper. He's been almost vibrating with excitement since his preschool trip to As You Wish a few weeks ago, desperate to tell me what he'd made but determined to keep it a secret until Mother's Day.
When I unwrapped the tile with his little handprint immortalized in red paint, he excitedly asked, "Is it what you've wanted for your
whole life??" Aaron and I laughed and I assured him that it was exactly what I have been wanting my whole entire life.
A beat later I realized that was true. As a teenager I didn't particularly like children all that much, but still I knew I wanted to be a mother. I've always known. And after I unwrapped his sweet gift this morning I thought, "I'm
here. This is where I've always wanted to be." I looked forward to tissue paper flowers and hand print tiles and getting sung to at church by the children. I wanted sticky kisses and midnight drinks of water and stumbling about the house with a child wrapped around each leg. I prayed for early morning cuddles and dinosaur noises and afternoons at the park.
I've spent years looking forward to receiving a messily painted hand print tile on Mother's Day. Today I am filled with gratitude that these days have come and that, as hard as they are, I am enjoying every moment of them.
To all the future/current/hopeful/prayerful/strong/struggling/exhausted/contented mommies-
Happy Mother's Day.
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