Mother’s Day 2006

There are lots of things that I’ve heard people say about “you’re not really a mom until…” Like, you’re not really a mom until you’ve been thrown up on, you’re not really a mom until you’ve done a late-night trip to the emergency room, you’re not really a mom until you’ve nursed a sick child back to health, or calmed their fears through a nightmare, or bounced and rocked a colicky newborn. Well, today I added another merit badge of motherhood to my little (but growing!) collection. I got the plaster of paris handprint for Mother’s Day. All wrapped up in handmade wrapping paper. And A was so excited about giving his gift, he was glowing. I never understood how those silly gifts I made for my parents made them so unbelievably happy. But now as I imagine how that tiny handprint will look sitting on his high school graduation party table, I understand. I cried. It’s amazing how he can drive me to the absolute limits of exasperation and back, several times a day, but how my arms ache to hold onto him and how my heart doesn’t want to see him grow up. He fell asleep on our bed tonight. D was making rounds at the hospital, I was sorting laundry in our bedroom, and A was watching Lady and the Tramp in our room. I left the room for about 2 minutes to hang up some clothes, and while I was away he fell sound asleep. I went in and cuddled him up in my arms and carried him to his bed. When I laid him down, he startled awake and gave me a wide-eyed stare and asked “Mom, am I in my bed?” When I assured him that he was, and I covered him up and said his prayers, he seemed all at ease and settled back into sleep.