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You know, mommyhood rocks.
I get to be jostled out of my bed every morning by a very moody little girl demanding cheerios with blueberries. I get to be awaken from my naps by sloppy kiddie kisses and hot toddler breath. I even get to watch as she runs across the house, completely pantsless.. and before I can question where the pants went, I see our puppy running behind her… pants in mouth.
I get crayons on my wall. I get food on the ceiling (don’t ask – I sure didn’t.) I even get big spongy alphabet tub toys in my toilet. I get all that… and she’s only 3, for crying out loud.
Alas… I get the most important thing of all. I get life.
My daughter has given me this sense of vibrancy that I don’t think I would’ve had otherwise. I value watching her drink down her milk with one hand, because I remember when she first reached for her bottle as an infant. I love watching her read, because I remember how frustrated I was trying to teach her the alphabet. As mad as I was watching the puppy chase my pantsless daughter across the house, I still laugh a little because I remember the first time she started walking, and I actually cried. Like a total punk. I mean boo hoo, no-kleenex-can-save-my-face-so-get-me-a-washcloth tears. She teaches me just how growth can change a person for the better, forever. She’s an everyday reminder.. right there in my face. Begging for goldfish crackers.
She’s fearless, too. Fearless like nosedive from the bed; jumping up from four feet in the air (and staying there); putting up her dukes and scrapping with the equally fearless puppy; climbing the jungle gym, sitting all the way up, and screaming “This is my world!” I mean, she’s a super hero.
Before her, I was just content. My daughter taught me how to live. That I could run, jump, play, become excited by something other than food and geek stuff and just overall be the person I was born to be.. the person I accidentally raised in her.
The person who, as I type this, just demanded that I play that darn “I’mma Be” song on my iPhone. ‘Cause that’s what I really need in the morning… the Black Eyed Peas. (I won’t lie.. her dancing is downright hilarious.)
So today, on Mothers’ Day, I’m celebrating what being a Mommy has given to me. The photos, the memories, the crayon-covered walls… but most importantly, the motivation to live. Because now, I have many many many more years to spend with her… repaying the favor with my own brand of hilariously embarrassing dancing. I’m saving that for her teenage years.
What are you doing to celebrate Mothers’ Day?[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]