Wednesday, May 15, 2013


My mother has always told me that I wouldn’t be able to understand her love for me until I had a child of my own. Impossible, I would say, knowing that my love and adoration for her was equal. Having seven months of motherhood tucked under my belt, I realize now how deep a mother’s love truly runs. In the days after Lilly’s birth, my Mom and I would spend evenings just staring at her, spellbound by love and with words so far out of reach.  I’ve spend my entire life watching my mom; studying her, learning from her mistakes, and capturing her strong will. At times I’ve resisted so much of her determination and dedication to motherhood; pushing when I should have been pulling and falling only when she tried to help me climb. But here I am…with a daughter of my own, who is bound to test her own limits and fly without wings.  I am so grateful for the footsteps I have to lead my way.  Ask me what it means to be a mom and I’ll tell you it is an unbelievable experience; so unbelievable that there aren’t any words to describe its beauty, fulfillment, or joy. Ask me what it means to be the daughter of my mom and I’ll tell you the same.    

My very first Mother’s Day wasn’t short of perfection.  Bird spent all morning in the kitchen cooking breakfast in bed for me, and in the days before she picked out the most beautiful gift at my favorite boutique. She even cleaned the house while the {fur}boys put away laundry and Brent did the dishes. And then, all together they took me on a picnic to our favorite park with lunch from my favorite restaurant. And to finish out the day, Bird promised to entertain daddy while I planted in the garden and wrote a blog or two. As for the boys; they chose to help dig in the garden.  Happy day for this Momma. 

No comments:

Post a Comment