This morning I awoke at 6am to the cries of a hungry baby. He ate with such purpose that he didn't even let me know when he needed to burp. So, when I finally did burp him, his breakfast spewed out all over the rocking chair, the carpet, and probably other places I will continue to find for the next few days. I put Caleb in his crib, cleaned up the mess as well as I could, then cleaned him up and got him ready in his Sunday clothes. I finished feeding him, then passed him off to Jon, who was barely awake and still in bed. I headed to the shower to get cleaned up myself. I thought, "Well, this is motherhood, I suppose. Up before I want to be to feed a boy who spits it all up. Cleaning up the carpet with no one there to sympathize or help out. I guess it's fitting for Mother's Day."
When I got out of the shower, I peeked out of the bathroom to see how Jon and Caleb were faring. I found a peaceful scene of my two favorite boys snuggled together, sleeping away. I tiptoed toward the bed to get a closer look. To imprint the image in my mind. My husband's arm cradling my little boy's head. My little boy's chin tucked in close to Jon, his arm raised above his head in complete relaxation. Both breathing the heavy cadence of deep sleep.
I could have watched that scene all day.
This is motherhood. What a fitting picture for Mother's Day.