It's been bedtime for over an hour, and for some reason, tonight of all nights, you're not interested in sleeping. You're laying beside me and I can hear those tired little yawns, but I can also hear you sing "Itsy bitsy spider" as you fight the heavy of your eyelids. The room is mostly dark. But the glow of my cell phone provides enough light that I can see you doing the motions along with it. A text message alert draws your attention to my phone, and you sit up and say "Hi friend!" And hold your hand out for my phone. I tell you no for the umpteenth time today, and you sigh and plop back down on the pillow. We both stay quiet for a moment, because both of us are annoyed with the other... But I lose the fight first because I laugh at your attempt to sneak out of the bed. Sometimes I regret that I raised you to believe they somebody has to being laying beside you in order for you to go to sleep, but I think that in the grand scheme of things, I'll be thankful for it when you're grown and gone. So many nights, I've watched your baby head move closer and closer to my chest, until your ear finds my heartbeat... And you grow still just long enough to let your eyes get heavy. You jolt yourself back awake and I sigh in frustration, and the process repeats itself over and over until uou finally surrender to the sweet dreams that are beckoning you. I stomp down the stairs angrily and swear that tomorrow, things are going to be different. I'm going to put you in bed, read our nightly stories, and March back out of the room. But somehow, every night, your sweet baby hand lands on my face and you kiss my nose. I'm not a fool, I know that you do it whenever you know you're in trouble... But you're no fool yourself. You know I'll kiss your nose right back as I pull you up close to me again.
You exhaust me. Every day of your life, you find some way to make me want to bang my head against a wall. I dread the bedtime process all day long. The entire process wears me down, because I know your Daddy is waiting for me to come down so that we can talk about our days without you interrupting and without one of your obnoxious sing along videos playing in the background. 9 times out of 10, I trudge out of your bedroom because I know that as soon as I plop down next to your Daddy, your little brother is going to pop his head up and let out a disgruntled shout that he's ready to eat. And Daddy and I will look at each other, sigh, and then smile as we head upstairs to our own bed. Are we frustrated? Sure. Are we exhausted? Absolutely. But we're okay with it. Because we know these days are but a vapor.
One of these days, we're going to sit in our recliners and look at each other. The same sparkle in our eyes, but faces that say "we raised two babies that were nineteen months apart." We'll probably wonder what to do with ourselves when you're both upstairs sound asleep in your beds, without any help from us. I don't like to think about a day that you're not living in my house, though I'm sure as you grow older and start sassing me with teenage eye rolls, I might grow a little more ready.
I never want to fear letting you go out on your own. I want to know that I poured every ounce of what I had to give you into you before I let you go. I only get eighteen years of you (Lord willing) before I have to be okay with whatever choices you make. They won't always be the right ones, but I hope that they're decisions that you're willing to discuss with me. That you're willing to hear what your Dad and I have to say. I hope that all of the energy and effort and dedication that we're pouring into you right now will reflect on the grown up side of you. We want you to have 100% of us right now, because we want to see 100% of us later. We never want to look back and say "we should have cuddled that little girl more often." Or "I wish we had taken a picture of her covered in mud and grass" before we both sighed in frustration that we had JUST bathed you. We want you to know that were present in the little moments too.
That's not to say we want to raise a clingy brat baby. No, we want you to be fierce, and we want you to grab life by the... Well. That's not a phrase you need to know yet. Someday. Not today. We want you to be independent and bold, and not need us as crutches.... But that's why we're so determined to build you up now. While we have you here with us.
You made me a Mama, Ella Morgan. And you have made me work hard for it. Your brother melts me to my core, but you're my fighter. You're the stubborn that I see in myself. I'm your greatest ally AND foe, because I know where your brain is headed before it gets there. I frustrate you as badly as you frustrate me... And it makes your Dad laugh outloud sometimes. He throws his hands up and says "leave me out of this." You're everything I could have asked for in a "first child," even on your worst day. And I want you to know that I am absolutely, completely, totally, and irreversibly crazy about you. I'm so thankful that I'm the arms that you landed in almost two years ago. I always tell your Dad "that girl is going to kill me." But we both know that you're what brought out the spark in me. You bring out the best and worst sides of me, and you keep me running back to Jesus sometimes. I love you so much for that. Truly.
Your little brother is teaching me different things. Mostly the importance of loving your Daddy openly and compassionately at all times, so that he knows what to look for in a wife. He's still in a "sleep constantly and smile goofily" phase, so there's a great bond, but not much of a relationship. Maybe I'll write a blog about how crazy he drives me in a few months, but tonight, just as you do every day, you're teaching me. The sounds of your breath just got noticeably heavier, which means that you've given up. An entire hour later. Bless your stubborn little heart.
I'm mad about you. That's all there is to it.
Until tomorrow, when I lock myself in the bathroom and say "NOT NOW!" For whatever fight we're having at that moment. I can't wait... Although maybe I can wait a little.
And as for Mr. Adam Jace... I already hear you. I hear your Daddy trying to distract your rumbly little belly. He knows that on any other night, I would come down the stairs and hear you crying, then put my head in my hands. "WHY DOES EVERYBODY ALWAYS NEED SOMETHING?!" I shriek exhaustedly. He knows I don't mean it. He knows that I know the day is ending and I can really freak out. But if we're being honest, nursing you in the quiet of my bedroom are the moments I look forward to with you. Your little sister is sound asleep, your Daddy is usually knocked out as well... it's just you and me. I inhale the sweetness of the "newborn smell" that I've grown to love so deeply as you look up at me through the sweetest blue eyes. I see a little bit of your Daddy looking back at me, but I mostly see myself. It's so true that little boys grab onto their Mama's hearts and don't let it go. May you stay this cuddly and sweet. I hope that your eyes always light up when they see me, because mine will always light up when I see you. You were unexpected, but certainly welcomed into our lives two months ago, and being your Mama is the greatest accomplishment in my life. Be strong and warrior like, sweet one, but hold on tight to the tenderness that's already peeking through your demeanor.
Today is Mother's Day. And a sappy blog might have been expected, but I certainly didn't intend to write one. The Lord is so good to steady my heart at the best moments. It's a challenge and so hard, but I'm so thankful that I'm their Mama. Today and every day.
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