Every morning my girls come tiptoeing (or what seems like foot shuffling for Genevieve) into my room. They generally sneak around to my side of the bed, tap my shoulder, rest their heads on their hands and wait for my eyes to flutter open, which happens rather quickly these days. I lift my jersey sheet and let them crawl over my growing body and snuggle them unit they fight to get away. Genevieve's cuddles last no more than a minute or two, but boy do I get all I can from those soft round cheeks. I press them close to mine and whisper, "Mama loves you Genevieve. Mama loves you." In an effort to break free, she grabs my cheeks and squeals, "I love you too Mama."
Mya is the best snuggler. If she marries a man like her daddy, she will make him one happy man. She is as content as can be to just rest her head on my chest. We talk and giggle as she recalls her dreams of the night before. Her dreams are becoming more and more elaborate with each passing day. It's as if she knows I can't move while she's resting with me so she tells me everything inside that curious brain of hers. I learn about her visits to Mulan in China or her train rides with PaPa across the country or her run-ins with the sheriff. Her imagination is insane, and it happens to be one of my favorite moments of my day.
Elle can't escape her crib without some assistance so our time is a little different in the morning. She is currently sleeping in our walk-in closet because the girl cannot sleep in a room with anyone else. She requires a full 12 to 13 hour night before anyone is allowed to see her again. Everyday I peek my head around my bathroom door only to hear her say, "Mama...are you? Mama...are you?" I smile and lift her out of her crib and we laugh as we play in the bathroom mirror. She knows Tim's gone because if he's home, he gets her from her crib so she often whimpers, "Daddy...bye? Daddy...bye?" at least 5 times before I distract her by changing her diaper and rolling around with her on my freshly-made bed. She has this laugh that is to die for, and I'll be honest...I die for it so I do anything possible to hear it every morning.
My girls are growing up, and fast. They are morphing into little ladies who still battle moments of babyhood/toddlerhood when life doesn't quite go their way, but they are aging beautifully. I know I often speak of the struggles of motherhood on this platform because writing about the struggles helps me find solutions to them, but there are also so many joys of motherhood too that should be equally noted. There are days when I still get jealous that Tim gets to be around adults all day, but those days are fading rapidly.
More often than not, I plop myself down on the faux leather couch in the living room and watch my girls interact and grow with each other. Sure, there are plenty of tantrums and fights and tears, but there are also lots of ring-around-the-rosies and hugs and laughter. Motherhood is the one thing helping me thrive in Texas. Mya and I have tackled 30+ books that she can read all by herself. Genevieve is more and more comfortable with writing her letters. And Elle and I sing about 100 nursery rhymes a day. It's like I'm her personal cd player and she has me on repeat all. day. long.
I love who I am for my girls. I am a magical creature in their eyes. I am mom, but I am also a story teller, a horse, a choo-choo train, a bus driver, a bug catcher, a champion swimmer, a baker, a snuggler, a teacher, a my little pony artist, a grammy award singer (or so they think), and a friend. Sometimes I fight the all-consuming aspects of motherhood because the tasks can be rather daunting, but when I embrace my role, I realize how grand life life can be and how much magic remains in my fingertips.
Labels: scattered thoughts