There is no word mightier than "MOM!"
Powerless. Completely powerless. Sometimes we feel so completely powerless.
And yet, another day we wake up, put our feet on the floor and march to the needs of those little humans we tucked into bed the night before.
Slammed doors, screeching voices, and “my brother is such a brat...” do not halt our ability to love our children through their challenges (well, maybe, only slightly on our most difficult days). Despite their imperfections (and our own), we power through.
When my daughter was approximately 2 ½ years old, she was having a tough day. She had crayoned on her bedroom wall, melted down over my taking the box of crayons away, she was mad at Barney and his friends, and she cried non-stop for the entirety of the morning.
This was unusual for her. She was delightful, funny, and an outgoing ham. She enjoyed being the center of her parent’s and grandparent’s universe….but, on this day, she could not seem to be comforted.
After going through my arsenal of “making it better” techniques and potions, I made the decision to lay her down for a nap. I sang her a lullaby...congratulated her on sleeping in her new “big girl” bed...said, “sleep tight and I love you” and made my way out of her girly-girl bedroom.
Within twenty minutes, I peeked in her room...she was out like a light. Her cries of frustration had been replaced with gentle snores of contentment.
Phew! This was finally mommy’s opportunity to get some rest as well. So I headed across the hall for a few winks.
Nearly an hour had passed.
When I awoke, I saw that my daughter’s bedroom door was open. “Boo Face” was not in her room. I called out for her...no response. I ran frantically around the house looking for her...I flew down the steps to her playroom...I opened cupboards...looked under beds, and in closets too. There was no sign of her anywhere!
I bolted out the backdoor to case the backyard and front yard too.
At this point, it was pouring rain.
I was beside myself and in a state of panic. I was beating myself up for taking a nap and running through every scenario possible to explain her disappearance.
I returned to the house.
I was preparing to call 911. As I picked up the phone, I glanced across the living room and noticed that the front door was ajar.
Finally, I decided to do one more run around my four-acre, densely wooded lot.
As I rounded the corner of the garage, I saw my baby playing in the mud. She was drenched, absolutely soaking wet, muddy, and smiling from ear to ear. She then shouted, “MOM!" at the top of her lungs! She was so proud of herself! Her arms were up above her head, she was tossing the mud in the air and she was elated over the raindrops falling all around her.
Instantly, I ran to her! I picked her up! I simultaneously wanted to shake the sh** out of her and hug her as though it were our very last one. I chose the latter!
Over the years, I have played that memory back in my head many times. But, it is the sound of my daughter’s voice gleefully shouting for me that remains with me most.
Oh! The might of the word....”MOM!”
I wish you joy and a Happy Mother’s Day!
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