Mom.
It was almost like a curse word to my ears. When did I become plain old 'Mom'? When did the first baby I held in my arms that was mine grow from an infant to a toddler to a boy? I don't have an answer. Time is a thief.
My momma heart hurt, but I knew it was all part of the process of raising littles. Love and help and teach and hold and empower and read and snuggle and love. And let go of Mommy. And Momma. And embrace 'Mom'.
My new name got me thinking about how wonderful and heartbreaking this motherhood journey can be. Babies need so much of their momma and then slowly, surely, little by little, they are less reliant on mom and more reliant on themselves. And every inch they pull away is cause for celebration and an itsy bit of sadness.
“Kids don’t stay with you if you do it right. It’s the one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won’t be needed in the long run.” —Barbara Kingsolver
These days it is easier to understand my mom more. It is easier to understand the conflict of raising me and watching me start my own life. I can now see and feel the weight of that conflict with my own babies. I understand her urge to hug and kiss me when we are together. I understand her need to spend time with me and make me happy with little things like wiping down the counters or sending me off on a date with Kevin. I understand the force that propels her to do anything she can to be near me and my babies. I am starting to get it, because, God willing, I will be in her shoes someday.
I may still roll my eyes at her ramblings about Facebook and the 15th shirt she bought that looks like the other 14 in her closet, but those aren't the things that matter. What matters is she
“I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.” —Mitch Albom
I celebrate you today, Mom. For everything you did for me as a baby and a toddler and a child and a teenager. And all you do for me today. You're my best Momma. Love you.
I love you so much my Sweet Sweet Sessa Girl💖😘
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