Seeing love…

I am a perfectly imperfect being. But in his eyes, I am simply perfect. I am his first love, his first kiss, his first everything. He is the only being who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside. He lays his head on my chest to hear my heart beat each morning because it reminds him of home. We fight and we argue each and every single day. We argue over diaper changes, brushing our teeth, not playing in the toilet, and why mommy doesn’t want him playing in her shirt. I always lose the battle, but I’m praying that I win the war. You see, he is only eighteen months old, a year and a half, yet he is the same size as the three year old’s at daycare. He stares at me with love in his eyes, unconditional, even if I forget his snack or pick him up late or change his diaper a little behind schedule and end up having to change his entire outfit. He runs and jumps and skips outside because he loves the freedom that being outside gives him, even if mommy is out of breath trying to catch up. Living on the fifth floor in new york city, he stands on the couch and stares out the window. Looking down on the tiny people he sees going about their day, watching the sun rise and set. He climbs in my lap that he is starting to out grow because he wants my undivided attention. His first word was mama. For four months it was the only word he knew. For four months minus a day, I wished that his first word had been dada. We laugh and play and giggle and share and read and play some more. He bumps his head and turns to me for approval to cry. 

Motherhood. Each night I want to turn in my resignation letter, but each morning he will not allow it. For he did not ask to be here, but now that he is, he demands time, energy, and attention. He places my face between his tiny hands and kisses my forehead. He runs and jumps into my arms when he sees me. He runs away from me when he hears the words bath or diaper. His breath on my cheek each morning as he climbs into bed with me so we can get another hour of sleep is the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt. He snuggles closer and throws his leg around my waist to ensure that I don’t try to sneak away from him.  Each day my heart sinks more and more in love with you as you stare up at me with those eyes that match your fathers, seeing me, with love…

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