I’m in Love

Would you believe me if I told you I had the Most Kissed Child of all time?

I do.

Little Mo is glued to my hip and my lips are glued to the top of his head.  Sometimes he drives me crazy!  (Quite often, in fact.)  Sometimes I drive him crazy.  (How can that be?!?!)  Yet, he begs me to hold him and I can’t help but breath him in and kiss those sweet, soft cheeks all day.  (Sidenote: Except for when Ben is around.  During those times he ignores me and refuses to let me touch him.  Ugh!  The nerve of that child!)

When I’m not kissing him or sniffing him I’m staring at him.  His cute little face is almost more than I can bear.  I give in to his demands waaayyyyy too often.  He’s perfecting the Art of Charming at a young age.

He’s two and a half now.  We are both in denial about that little fact.  He often tells me he’s a baby (“No, me can’t help.  I the baby!”  “Hold me!  I’m still a baby!”  and the like)  and I tend to treat him as such.  I’m trying to let him grow up.  It’s hard.  I’d like for him to stay perched safely on my hip with my lips glued to the top of his head.  Protected.  Happy.  Safe.

If only.

One day he’ll leave me.  I’ll be a complete wreck!  I’ll worry about him constantly and pray for him daily.  And I’m pretty certain that when I take my last breath my final thought will be a prayer pleading for protection and happiness for my children.

Parenthood is so permanent.  I knew about the pain of childbirth, the daily monotony of housework, the frustrating childhood temper tantrums, the moodiness and rebellion of adolescents, and the tediousness of raising worthwhile human beings.  What I wasn’t prepared for was this permanent sense of worry and concern.  Each moment of each day for the rest of my life I am certain I will wonder where they are, how they are, what they’re doing, if they’re happy, and how I can help them.  There’s a lightness and a freedom that’s been replaced with an overwhelming sense of responsibility and painful amount of love.

I may get a lot of things wrong in this role of parenthood, but my children will never be able to say they weren’t loved.

Love them I do!