I sat perched on the edge of the tub feeding him alfredo noodles out of a plastic Ikea bowl, because it's the only way I could get him to sit still long enough to eat his dinner. And I was reminded at how physically exhausting it is to be a mom. I was also reminded of a quote that has been echoing in my mind for the past few weeks,
"And it occurs to me that maybe the reason my mother was so exhausted all the time wasn't because she was doing so much, but because she was feeling so much" (Kelly Corrigan, Glitter and Glue).
Nailed it. But those same emotions that cause me to feel every heart ache they experience, that keep me up at night worrying, questioning, doubting and second guessing are also the same emotions that allow me to love deeper and stretch farther than I have ever known was possible. And I'm grateful for all of it. And grateful for my own mother who experienced these emotions ten fold. I don't know how she did it.
Mother's day was good to me, Jason and the kids make sure of that every single year. I woke up with one boy straddling me pretending to take out my eyeballs, while another boy waved a homemade card in my face that he had kept safely hidden in his back pack and could barely contain his excitement. Blueberry pancakes followed shortly after then a day of hugs, kisses, squeezes, cards and sweet gifts from Kylie that she bought with her own birthday money. We wrapped the day up with a roast chicken dinner after church with friends, made entirely by the boys. I felt special. And grateful. And loved. And it felt real nice. These kids and that husband of mine are all a girl could ever ask for.