I don't really consider myself a very sentimental person. In fact, I am generally not a fan of when people get all honeyed and mushy...especially in public. But I am going to break from my traditional demeanor in this post.
I have been feeling extremely grateful for my kids lately. They are really challenging a lot of the time, but they're also incredibly sweet and I don't know what I'd do without them. For Mother's day all I wanted (other than a nap) was some pictures with each of my kids, and Bart was happy to oblige. So, here they are, along with some thoughts about why I love each of my children.
And as a warning, this one's gonna be sappy. Read on at your own risk.
Oh, my Addison. How I love you. In church on Mother's day, someone commented that often Motherhood is a thankless job. Well for me it isn't. Not with you around. Every single day I can count on you for at least one (if not many) spontaneous hugs accompanied by an, "I love you mom." Just the other day you told me, "Mom, all I want to do is get some hot chocolate, turn on a movie, and snuggle with you." Thankless? Never. I love you Addison.
Dear sweet Hannah. Just thinking about you makes my heart swell! I remember the first time I heard your, "I yuv you." I nearly melted. And I can always count on you to make me laugh with your quirky little antics. Lately, I love how you'll call out, "I yuv you mommy," and then pause, think about it, and follow up with, "I yuv you Addison." Or Daddy, or Maya, or Lilly...but I especially love the Addison right now. It always comes when Addison is away at preschool. It makes me happy to know that you love her so much, even when she's not around helping you. I love you sweet Hannah.
Maya, I cannot explain the elation I felt when you first smiled at me. It was such a spontaneous, sweet smile. And it lasted for so long! I spent so many hours worrying about you when you were in the hospital. According to the ultrasound, gestationally, you were a few days younger than your sister, and when you're born at 32 weeks every day makes a big difference. Yours was the placenta that abrupted, and you had a hard time at first. But now it's like you're making up for all that worry you put me through. You are my angel baby. You are so easy going and relaxed. Don't get me wrong, if you have had enough for the day, you will let everyone know. But those days are few and far between. You are the perfect complement to your drama queen sister. I love you my Maya.
Oh my little Lilly. I'm not going to lie, you have been my most challenging baby. Your dad says you're a drama queen. You're either extremely happy, or EXTREMELY unhappy. The SECOND something does not go your way (be it having to wait while I change your sister's diaper or being set down when you want to be held), you will cry out to let EVERYONE know! On the other hand, when you're happy, you'll smile and coo at me for what seems like hours.
When you were in the hospital you were my rock. Every time the nurses would give me bad news about Maya ("She has to go back on the CPAP machine," or "She's not tolerating her feedings well") they'd give me good news about you (she's ready to move on to the next step). I remember looking into your little blue eyes and just feeling you tell me, "It's okay mama, don't cry. She'll be fine. See, I'm moving forward, she'll be there soon too." I knew she'd be fine, but I can't tell you how much comfort your progress brought me.
Then, as we were about to leave the hospital, your oxygen levels started dropping at your feedings. I told the nurses that I didn't understand. You were the one who was always doing better and now you were having a hard time. The nurses told me, "Sometimes it's like these little babies are just giving it their all, and they finally just poop out and say, 'I'm sorry, I just can't do it any more.'" I felt like that's what you had done for me. You worked so hard to keep me going when Maya was struggling that you finally wore yourself out. Thank you sweet Lilly. You were there when I needed you most, and in the grand scheme of things, a few weeks with extra oxygen and a monitor were a small sacrifice to have you home and well. I love you my little Lil.