But oh that rollercoaster of motherhood is so very worth the ride.
You two are the reason I have the privilege to call myself a mother.
A new identity added to my list of descriptives that has more depth & meaning than I ever could have imagined when I first started out on this adventure. At the beginning I felt like I didn’t know how to “be” a mom. Others around me made it all look so easy. But it turns out that the two of you are really amazing teachers. You let me know when there is something new I need to learn. When I need to look ahead to the next stage of development, or pay attention to new behaviors. Or when I need to remember how fun it can be to lie on the driveway to look for pirate ships & giraffes in the passing clouds.
Thank you for showing me that the limits of my patience can stretch far beyond the borders I previously set. That the same is true for the love I carry for the two of you. I never knew before what a flexible organ the human heart can be, expanding each day with new found delight in being your mom.
I love that when we are walking somewhere I can put out my hand silently & feel your hot, sticky little hands grab mine without missing a beat.
I love how you greet me when we have been apart… that whether it has been 15 minutes or 5 hours your enthusiastic, "Mommy!" at seeing me doesn’t waver.
Quinn, I love how you are starting to tell me what you want. How yesterday when I was doling out snack & you flopped down crying you actually told me with words “blue cup” after I had given away your preferred vessel. And Remy, I love how you gladly gave your brother the cup he wanted… knowing you had already eaten out of it & would be getting more in the new cup.
I love that when you are hurt or scared that my hugs & kisses can still work magic. That easing pains, calming worries & slaying monsters are all still within my powers.
I love passing down traditions that meant a lot to me growing up… the way we do holidays on whatever dates work best for us, putting extra kisses in your ears to save for later, or whispering your secrets to an angel before bedtime.
I hope that one day you will forgive me the occasional white lies I tell… usually for either your safety or to preserve my own sanity. That when you find out the car will still go if all seatbelts are not buckled, rarely do parks close at noon on Tuesdays, and that it was really me who ate the last oatmeal cookie you were saving, not your dad... I hope that you will laugh & understand.
I love when you remind me that keeping a sense of humor is the best tool a Mother has for dealing with whatever comes our way.
And most of all, I love that no matter how many mistakes were made or how much chaos dominated our waking ours, at the end of the day I get to tip-toe into your room and give each of my velvet heads one last kiss before I go off to sleep.