I lost my heart seven years ago, completely and utterly, to the first of my three boys. Big brown eyes peered up at me in the disbelief that this world was cold and bright and I was lost.
Soon enough, though, those little feet toddled after his hero, his Daddy, leaving me a little sad and a lot left out. Deep down, I knew he loved me, but manifestations of it were few and far between. My arms longed for him to reach for me first, to call to me when he was hurt or scared, but Daddy was A #1.
Fast forward a few years and several shoe sizes - in his case- and my ears are hearing a lot more, "Mama! Mama! Hey, Mama! Watch this!" Even when the A #1 super hero is around, he actually likes me, you know, the one who gave him life.
Be still my heart.
Today, this sweet boy, made me lose my heart a little bit more. (considering I had already lost it, that's quite a feat.) Today, he got into an argument with one of his cousins about whose mama is the most beautiful-est. He claimed it was me.
He wasn't trying to get me to cut up more fruit for him or to wheedle out of school work. In fact, he didn't even know I had overheard it.
To be fair, when they couldn't decide who's mama it was, it was determined that the only way to decide was a rock, paper, scissors contest.
I was a close second. Like by a hair. (maybe it was my hair. it hasn't looked so hot lately.)
Can I just stop time right now and save him as a seven-year-old who think his mama is the most beautiful-est? Please, God?
Maybe I'll just sneak up to his room and cradle him in my lap once more.
I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be. ~Robert Munsch
It was the best day ever.