It was a Thursday evening, and we had just finished dinner. Cameron had retreated to our bedroom with his homework, and the kids had just joined a neighbor friend downstairs in the basement. I was left with the kitchen clean up. It was the beginning of a school weekend for Cameron, which often results in me feeling lonely and craving time with Cameron or just adult conversation in general. I was feeling tired and pregnant, and I wanted to sit down and cry, but I decided that it would be quicker to just clean up the kitchen and move on with life. I was barely getting underway when I heard Grace coming upstairs to find me. She walked over to me, pointed to her head, and said, "Bonk."
"Did you bonk your head?" I asked. She nodded, and I picked her up for a hug, kiss, and cuddle.
Mere seconds later she said, "Down." I put her down, and she headed back to play. She just needed a little love and sympathy before getting back to her activities.
Sometimes it surprises me just how tender and critical my role as a mother is.
A few days after that Jake had a fever and spent the day lethargically on the couch. Several times during the day he called forlornly to ask me to snuggle him.
It's easy to forget how much these precious little people need me. They depend on me for sympathy, attention, encouragement, comfort, and unconditional love. I feel so lucky to be their mom. I am there to watch Jake wash a firetruck at the open house for the new city fire station. I am there to join in the fun when Abby pretends there is a dragon under the kitchen table--we name him Orville and pretend to share our oranges with him. I am there when Grace puts Abby's underwear on over her jeans and then decides to finish off the ensemble with some of my heels.
I am there when Grace falls out of her toddler bed and cries at night. I am there to kiss Abby's finger when she pinches it. I am there to teach Jake a peaceful resolution to neighborhood squabbles.
Motherhood is tender, precious, and oh so sacred. I absolutely love it.
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