On Mothers Day...

Another Mother's Day has come and gone...

It was Mini Marathon Weekend (more on that later) which meant the entire family was in town for the weekend. This is such a rare occasion, that we tend to try and pack every possible run, walk, beer, daytrip, hug, glass of wine, snuggle, smile, retold story and laugh into those two days.

So today? I'm exhausted. But in the best sort of way.

My quads twinge from Saturday's race every time I sit down or descend stairs.
My cheeks still hurt from smiling and laughing so hard this weekend.

The tops of my shoulders are the tiniest bit pink from sun.

And my heart is full. 

Mainly because of these folks right here:

 

It's gotten to the point where I cannot fathom my life without The Munchkins.

I recall, when pregnant with The Biz, people telling me that I'd forever catalogue my life as pre- and post- kids. And they're right in a way. But the funny thing is that no one tells you that the years before children take on a fuzzy sort of dream-like quality; to the point where you only remember those early years in the way that you remember a story told to you once, while drifting off to sleep.

 

It is the strangest and most awe-inspiring thing to see your heart walking around outside your body. How, in the blink of an eye, these tiny people that we MADE have gone from infants to independent little people all on their own.

They are the best thing I've ever done.

 

The are the source of both my greatest joy, and on certain days, my greatest challenge.

In a heartbeat they can go from making my want to tear my hair out in frustration, to making me melt in the face of their kindness to each other when they think no one's looking.

Mr. Man has taken to tossing one arm, casually, around my shoulders when we are seated. As if he's already as protective of me as he is of his sisters. And I can already picture him, a teenagers and towering above me, doing the same thing after strolling in the house from school some random Wednesday and it terrifies me. And Belle, so thirsty for approval, mothers them both and me; reminding me to set alarms, pack lunches, buckle seatbelts. Much to my chagrin, I know the days are coming when I'll need those reminders more than I care to admit. And so I force myself to smile and not become irritated when she asks, for the tenth time on our 15 minute car trip, if I'm certain I know exactly where I'm going... And Monkey, who need only grin half-heartedly and show a single dimple to have everyone eating out of the palm of her hand, refuses to let her age or stature defeat her. She is fearless and ruthless in her loyalty to both her siblings and her friends. She, who will forever suffer the curse of the youngest child, is animated in her enjoyment of life. She holds no qualm at expressing either her dissatisfaction or delight in the world around her.

The Munchkins with MY mom...who still pours me coffee and reheats slices of pizza for me without even asking when I walk in the door. Who still checks to be sure we all have a jacket on when we leave her house. Who still carries extra kleenex in her purse knowing we'll need it. Who still calls me when she's on a shoppers high or makes an amazing purchase (on clearance!). Who still takes the time to hand write thank you notes. Who still builds us each Christmas Stockings and Easter Baskets. Who still puts up with us...despite our inanities, or perhaps because of them. Who I love more now that I am a mom myself, if that's even possible...

They give Mother's Day meaning for me.

And I both long for, and harbor a secret dread of, the day when they are grown.

I want some small piece of them to stay small, to need me, to curl up against me on the couch and tuck their toes under my legs, to always want to sidle up to me and slip their tiny hands into mine just for the pleasure of wrapping my fingers around theirs and knowing they are mine.

Also...here's my sister...feeding a giraffe...

 

Just because it's an awesome picture.