Life has hit me wrong, left me hurting. The pain seems more than I can bear right now. I enter your room and am immediately met with four little feet charging straight ahead, nearly knocking me over in embrace. “Mommy! Mommy!” you squeal.
Here with you, in this moment, the pain somehow fades to sweet peace and I smile.
We are trying to reach our destination, or, I am trying to reach it. You do not cease to move at the speed of snails, stopping at each new wood chip, rock, piece of trash. I am busy, we do not have time. You hear the music playing from one of the storefronts and begin to dance–one of you a ballerina, the other a simple knee bopper.
Here with you, in this moment, life’s busyness can wait another day.
I am exhausted, wiped, my fourteen hour work day with you has been spent. Still, you do not sleep. I want to go climb in bed and cry. I hear the two of you playing together, laughing, laughing, laughing. I too begin to laugh at your silly antics and contagious joy.
Here with you, in this moment, I have found strength once again.
It is constant, non stop chaos these days. I am out of breathe by the time we finally make it to the zoo this morning. I look at your faces, barely able to contain yourselves from the excitement of seeing a real live elephant for the first time.
Here with you, in this moment, I wish to spend my every last chaotic minute watching the wonder in your eyes.
I am trying to get us all inside. You are crying, screaming. Everyone is over tired and nothing can calm the emotions. My arms feel they will fall off from holding two toddlers at the same time. I grab some warm milk and cuddle you to sleep. I gaze at your sleeping faces.
Here with you, in this moment, I sit in awe, allowing the tears to run freely.
Here with you, life has meaning. Here with you, my heart resides. It is in these moments, these daily glimpses of heaven itself, I remember why there is no greater thing in life than being Mom.