On Sunday I made my first Mother’s Day craft, for myself. Like a kid on the first day of school I got out all the goodies. Crayons, foam paper, non-toxic paint and sponge brushes, string and Elmer’s glue. (If playing with all of that stuff doesn’t make you feel like a child, I don’t know what will.)
Dallas doesn’t go to preschool and I’ve dreamed of the day my fridge is absolutely full of doodles, magnets, and handmade cards with colorful scribbles. Traditionally these items are made for you at daycare or preschool, but he’s with me all day long and his hands aren’t getting any smaller!
While I traced pink and purple hearts onto the notebook paper and Dallas ate crayons (without my permission), I thought about how one day today will be a distant memory. His little blue hand print will be the only thing left of my second Mother’s Day, leaving me wondering how his tiny hand was ever so small. A Hallmark holiday as so many people see it, but you know what? Every mother deserves one day a year to be celebrated for all of her selflessness and the countless hours she puts in around the clock, not just for raising the kids but every other detail that is motherhood.
I really do think I’m the best momma there is for my guy. I don’t mind that he sucks his thumb. I enjoy sitting outside in the sun while he moves rocks (balls) from one end of our yard to another. My heart swoons when he reaches out to grab my finger as he charges down our carpeted green back porch steps. He doesn’t say “one, two” yet, but he does make his own little noise every time each foot hits the step, mimicking me. Yesterday I told him that after we put his shoes on we were going outside to play. Quicker then I could walk to his room he brought me his Keens. Last night when his dad told him it was bedtime, he said “that’s fine!”
Parenthood isn’t easy but I cannot tell you the number of times lately my husband and I have smiled with our eyes, so big that it sent shock waves to our hearts. At nearly two years old, Dallas is saying new words every day. I’m gonna miss him handing me his cup and saying “Mo wawa.” The way that every time he says “no” it comes out differently. The circles he walks on the carpet when you tell him to dance. Or my personal favorite, the way his cheeks bounce when he’s strutting around the house. These are the things that I cherish on Mother’s Day. All of the little moments that may be insignificant to other people, that are so, so special to me.
Motherhood is beautiful because it is so intricate and unique. No two moms are the same.
On Mother’s Day, I think of all of the mommas. The ones who miscarried, who have angels in heaven, the women who adopted or pray every single day for a miracle. The women with hearts that ache at the word “mom”. Every woman should have a chance at motherhood.