My mornings usually begin with one or both of you in my bed beside me. Sometimes you wake up before me, and I’m roused by your sweet little hands touching my cheek. Sometimes I wake first, and I try to sneak downstairs for a quiet cup of coffee by myself.
My evenings usually end with me in your beds, resting beside you as you fall into sleep.
And somewhere in between, I try. I try to make sure you eat well and play well, dress appropriately for the season, and arrive on time to school in clean clothes without any breakfast on your faces. I try to make sure that you’re stimulated, that you have quiet time alone and noisy time with friends, and that you get lots of opportunities to run around outside and breathe in fresh, clean air.
Some days, though, I fall short. Some days, my patience is thin. Some days, I wish I had a little time alone. Some days, I fear that I talk too much about the messes and not enough about how very special you are, and how much you mean to me.
But, every single day, I try. I try to be the best mom possible and I live hoping that, some day, on some level of awareness, you will know that you were my whole world and that there was nothing I wouldn’t do for you. That, despite my shortcomings, you know that you filled my life with meaning and my heart with love, and that you brought me joy greater than I’ve ever imagined.
Thank you, girls, for making me your Mama. This alone is the greatest gift.