Sometimes, they call me Mother

Sickness has entered the house for round two.

My heart is thankful to be sick on a weekend, when I can release myself of guilt for the things I'm supposed to be doing (ie. conducting lessons and keeping small people productively entertained).  As it is, I let my hair down and run movies full tilt.  As long as everyone is content and the ones needing to rest are being still, I think it's a good move.  

Achy joints, fevers, barky coughs,

Long hot baths, tea, pillows strewn about the living room...  that's what life is this weekend.

I'm so glad it's not the throw-ups.

Tears come easily (to me) in this third trimester.  Only five weeks to go, and I can hardly wait to meet this wiggling little person!  The most precious thing about the tears this time around, is that I don't find myself attaching them to anything - any event or catastrophe.

I happen to know from 7 times prior experience that this hormonal weepiness rarely has a reason, but usually I try to pin it on something.   There has to be an explanation besides hormones, doesn't there?

The other night though, I had a good cleansing cry after I dropped my Beloved off at the airport.  All I could think was "Thanks Lord, for letting me cry without any reason at all.  Everything is well and blessed, and I  am an 8 months pregnant woman who just needs a good cry. Thank you."

 The other day I was sitting in swim lessons watching my children splash away, and couldn't help myself from doing a bit of people watching.  It's a favorite pass-time of mine, and offers much perspective on life for one willing to take up consideration.

One thing that struck me, was the sweetness of the young mothers in that place.  Most of the mamas were watching one or two children swim while cuddling a toddler or baby.  Most of them had three children at most.  Most of them were probably my age in their 30's.
I know that lots of women wish for more children, but I think it's more likely that status quo dictates the social standard for most people in general.  But without digressing into personal territory, I just want to say how much pleasure I got from watching these mothers... mother.  These unknown ladies blessed me in their tender efforts, and if anyone can appreciate the effort that effort takes - I think I can :-)

I was affected in another way too though - I was overwhelmed with gratefulness for this season being so long for me.  Specifically the baby/toddler/ little person season.  I was almost sick to think that the third child sitting on mommas lap being read to, was the last two-year-old that momma would have the pleasure of holding close in that way.  Oh how thankful I am to have so many chances to do-over some of those moments I missed the first, second, third time around.  I am enjoying my coming-up young adults so very much, but I am glad this toddler cuddling season isn't over.
I couldn't help think that if that momma were me, my youngest could be 6 or 8 years old!  Instead, I am reveling in those ages while looking forward once more to the second my labors are rewarded and I'm handed a warm, wet, bundle to love.
And another chance to try again - to do-over things that want perfecting, and to become a sweeter momma in the process.

These children of mine - they are priceless.  In the midst of juggling daily life I sometimes take them a bit for granted.  They amaze me. They inspire me.  They are becoming such fascinating and vibrant personalities!
And I get to be their mom.

One of mine own calls me Mother.
And unlike the mom who tacks on a middle name as voice and irritation mount, this girl utters the word as an endearment.  Whenever I hear it I feel it's an honor I don't deserve - this title of Mother.
Mom seems to me the sum of all my parts.  My failures included, but Mother... that is the bare truth of who I am.  I am a mother.  I am her mother.  For all time... mother.

The funny thing is that it has caught.  I now have a three-year-old little boy calling me: "Mother... could you get me a drink?"  And a lisping 21 month snippet of sunshine in pigtails who chirps "Mah-er... Mah-er".

So bring on the tears - those ridiculous, annoying, hormonal pregnancy tears.  I am the luckiest woman on earth!  I am the momma to each one of these spectacular individuals.  They give me grace in my failures.  They encourage me when I'm fumbling and bumbling.  They are still cuddle-able.
Even though I am mom, and often deserving of much less than the mountains of love they heap back into my life...

Sometimes... they call me Mother.