Memoirs of motherhood

Rachel has this habit of calling me “My Mommy”. Sometimes it bugs me enough to correct her, but most of the time I just wonder where and why this started? Maybe it’s a sibling jealousy thing? Maybe it’s because the people around her will ask “Did your mommy say…” or “Where is your mommy?” Whatever. I just think it’s sweet that she wants me (and anyone in earshot) to know that she is mine and I am hers.

Tonight, I decided it was time to leave sippy cups and bottles in the kitchen and go to bed like a big girl. I’ve grown tired of wondering why the bed sheets are wet or having to change her into a dry shirt in the night just because the bottle leaked. She handled it like a champ, but in the end, I decided she could have just a sip. It was taking too long to get her to sleep, and I wanted to go play games with the rest of the adults, so I left her thinking all would be well, and I checked on her ten minutes later just to make sure. All was quiet. I came back 15 minutes after that and I heard her sobbing hysterically, uncontrollably shaking. She told me through broken words that she couldn’t find her sippy cup. I looked everywhere too and couldn’t find it, but she didn’t seem too bothered by that. She just asked me to stay and “Snuggle me”. I lay down next to her little warm body and wrapped one arm over her belly. As her breathing slowed, her little hands tucked themselves under my chin and wrapped around the collar of my night shirt.

I sat there pondering what had just happened. It’s a remarkable thing to be able to soothe a crying child. Sure, someone else could have brought her a cup or given her a treat or even turned on a Disney movie. But all she really wanted and needed was for me to hold her close. That was all it took, and yet it means everything! To feel the amount of trust and confidence and love she has for me is absolutely humbling. That is a gift. That is motherhood. What an honor to be responsible for this precious little girl-for TWO of them! In those early dark hours, when I usually wish I could be sleeping, I hope I always remember how beautifully sacred it is to be needed and wanted by these little ones. I wouldn’t trade that for the world!