Mother's Day

When I became a mother, it had little meaning beyond the moment. I didn't analyze much beyond what it would be like when she said "momma" the first time or how exciting it would be when she rolled over. I didn't know how tough it would be and I certainly didn't think about school. Whew. I've made it about seven years now. It's up and down and over and under. Sometimes I don't know how I can take it. Sometimes I know I'm not hacking it. Sometimes I float as I bask in a smile. Sometimes I just survive. Sometimes I thrive. Sometimes I know I'm doing well but sometimes I know I'm not. It's easy to feel kind of abused when you have three kids. They're just clammoring for more of you and fighting for the lap so I can be their furniture. It doesn't seem to possibly matter what I want to offer them, they'd rather have something else. And yet, in those special moments, I feel that love where they want to show me. Today Kait was cleaning up the living room so it would be clean when I came downstairs for breakfast. She came up the stairs huffing and puffing with a huge armload of books. You know, I'm the only one who ever huffs and puffs up the stairs with armloads of books, so that meant something to me. I thanked her and she said "Well, Eden won't even help me, she's just laying down there in the floor pretending to be crucified on the cross." For real, it's hilarious to hear Kaitlyn's little chirpy voice say the word "crucified". I think about that now and wonder how I can be such a martyr about being a mother, but I often am. The work definitley pulls me down when I lose track of the blessings and the joys that God gave me here on this earth. I am blessed. I have a charming redhead lover, three blonde beauties and a life most could only dream of. And so, I thank you God, for the beautiful Mother's Day with homemade waffles, three beautiful children marching off to church, flowers everywhere and pots to put them in, the sun in the back yard and the neighbors to share dinner with. I am blessed... and now I shall go sleep in that wonderful bed. If only I'd gotten a picture.

And then she was 5

Every birthday my kids have, I have to reminisce about the day they were born. I remind Kait that she flew out of me like a flash. I tell her that she screamed like a mad woman as soon as they placed her in my arms and she hasn't turned off the vocal chords since (which I don't say).I picture her first bath, her smiles within the first week of her life. Her dimpled smile on the swingset in Kasson. Marveling as she scooted across the floor like an inchworm at Christmas time. Laughing as she stood by the leapfrog table covered in chocolate as Eden's words of "Mom she likes chocolate!" finally sank in. I don't remember her first steps but it doesn't really bother me because I do remember so many things. My 18 month old held her sole diet of blueberries in her hand and said "look, I got seven!" Coincidentally, she did! Watching her learn to ride a trike Grandpa brought her on her second birthday. Taking away her binky shortly after her second birthday explaining that we needed it for the baby. She stuck it in my belly button and asked the baby if it liked it. Then, her face as she welcomed her baby brother into the world in her old bedroom. After we moved to Longmont I remember her loving the trampoline I picked up but only if everyone jumped the way she told them to. I've loved teaching her to read, to count, geography... everything. She's my sponge. Spouting out all of the things I don't want repeated! The stories she can weave, the dreams she can concoct. If one person had to bear the load of things in Kait's brain bursting to come out, it would be mind bending. She spends hours every week on the phone and skype. Even my whole family can't bear the words. People asked me what to give Kait for her birthday this year and I was dumbfounded. What do you give to someone who just talks nonstop all day every day? Today she asked me to identify whether things were man made or nature all the way across town. She's ceaseless and none of it seems to be connected or remotely predictable. Well, I love you little girl and I hope you love these little reminscing blogs when you're older and wonder what we saw.