I suppose it doesn’t take much for a mom, huh? We get all ooey gooey when our child mutters a syllable, or draws us a scribble with a half-broken crayon. We treat these gifts like gold, framing them on our fridge, pressing them into books, snapping away our cameras at their teeny faces, beaming with pride and accomplishment, for us to go back and pour over in amazement at how they’ve grown and changed with tears and wishes for more time before they’re fully grown.
It doesn’t take much to impress us, to get us hooked, because we marvel at their every move every day, studying every crevice, hair and speck of dirt, marveling at how perfect they are despite how different from each other they are, as we should. We created these beings from the depths of within us, out of love, miracles, and magical science. They were born to us filled with that same magic, to bless upon us joy beyond joys we couldn’t ever imagine, every single one of these precious events helps us celebrate together our beautiful lives with one another.
Time is not on our side. We have to look at every day as a fresh canvas with which to paint each day filled with joyous color from love, and cherish them as we brush that canvas with our memories.
Today was a bit of wet orange, like dried peaches on his nose and drool hanging…
Mingled with some green, jumbled, depicting the wrestling match with daddy on the trampoline…
With some sweet yellow, so big yet so sad – sad by how much she looked like a big girl sitting there, eating snack on her big girl plate, and drinking with her baby hands out of a big girl cup…
(then proceeding to build a tower, and then giggle while trying to scheme to knock it down…)
Brushed with some romantically dark blue, handsomely strewn over in the corner, resembling how my husband looked up from his book long enough for me to snap a fabulous picture of him…
Flecked a bit by some wonderfully murky brown in a circle with spikes, kind of like my children’s famous mud pie birthday cakes that are made lovingly for me (that I still think look like dog poop, despite how much I love my kids)…
With a big white heart in the center for my snuggle brother-babies.
Yup, these finer things are what makes this mom melt into one gigantic puddle of gratefulness, painting each day with joy, embracing the color from one day to the next.
You never know what each day is going to bring you, as a parent, but it’ll always be filled with children, and colors, and memories.
Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek
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