Musings on Motherhood

I admit it. I get frustrated with my children. Yes, my sweet and chubby babies are often a cause for frantic tearing of hair and long pleading prayers for more patience and love. I often sit on the floor, exhausted from chasing after Nathan, giving Esther a time out for poking her brother in the eye, cleaning up the latest mess, trying to explain to the 911 operator that my ten month old had been playing with the phone, dozens of false alarm trips to the toilet, and little hands pawing at me while I try to simply send an email.

Then Nathan crawls towards me, laughing with his mouth wide open and his eyes eager as he climbs into my lap, then pulls himself up to standing and slobbers on my cheek. I kiss him back and he imitates kissing by smacking his lips together.

Esther, not to be left out, makes room for herself on my lap and strokes my cheek. “Don’t worry, Mommy.” I pull them close and hold them tightly, wondering how I could possibly get so upset when I’ve been so blessed. I think of the wonder that each of my children is, how my life would be so incomplete with their unique personalities, and the rare gift that being their mother truly is.

I love that Esther, at three years old, is already a great lover of books. She sits quietly and pours over her books, making up a new story if she hasn’t already memorized the book. We developed a tradition of me telling her a story right before naps and bedtime. She latches onto the characters I make up and we have story after story of her favorites. Then she wants to “nuggle” with me; so she scoots close, wraps her arms around me, and whispers softly, “I love you, Mommy.”

I love Nathan’s determined look and pursed lips and he stands on tippy-toe trying desperately to reach something he isn’t supposed to touch. When he finally gets it, he raises it with a grunt of triumph. I catch him at it; then he smiles and hands it to me, and is off to find more trouble.

I love to hear Esther sing. Her voice is airy and sweet, and a shy smile lights up her face when she knows that we’ve been listening to her singing to herself. She has us sing the same songs to her over and over again, all the while memorizing them.

I love that Nathan is too excited about everything to hold still. He is always going somewhere, usually with a toy shoved into his mouth as he crawls.

I love that Esther has so much of her Daddy in her. She has Daddy’s olive skin, his long toes, which she started to cross while she was still an infant, just like Daddy does. She is likes to sleep on her right side, just like Daddy. And she determined and smart – just like Daddy!

I love how Nathan gets all excited when he looks at himself in the mirror. He waves and says the sweetest “ahh,” which is his way of saying hi.

I love how Esther is so talented at making friends. Shy is not really in her nature. She can talk to anybody and is always interested in finding out more about people. .

I love that my children love each other. Though Esther constantly pushes over, sits upon, pokes, pulls, and otherwise pesters her little brother, her adoration of him shines through and I love to see it – the sweet stuff, that is. Nathan yells for his big sister whenever she leaves the room, and then follows her around. My absolute favorite thing is when Esther gets Nathan laughing so hard they can hardly breathe. Then she busts out with, “Mommy! We lapping together!”

More often, I need to pull them close and search their big eyes and kiss their chubby cheeks. More often, I need to tell them how much I love them. More often, I need to thank my Heavenly Father for such wonderful children. I am proud to be the mother of Esther and Nathan, two of the greatest blessings in my life!