One of the best parenting moments for me thus far was the first time my son told me, completely unprompted, “I love you, Mommy!” I still get a fuzzy feeling every time he surprises me with that affirmation, and I of course happily reply, “I love you, too, sweetheart. So much.” But what I really want to say, and what’s in my heart is this:
"There are no words for how I feel about you. You didn’t even exist in my life until two years ago, but somehow I don’t remember, can’t imagine, what that was like. I’m convinced more and more each day this is why I’m here – to be your mommy. The first 29 years of my life I was just preparing, waiting for you to come. I was observing the example set by my parents so I could pass on those lessons to you. I was trying new things, winning and losing, so I could relate to you when you have those experiences. I was learning how to succeed on my own so I could instill in you the value of hard work. I was falling in love with your daddy more each day and building a home with him so we could welcome you with open arms and give you everything you need. I was maturing beyond a self-centered focus so I could be ready to truly put someone else’s needs ahead of my own. I was praying and hoping that you would join our family, learning what it really means to be patient and have faith in a God who weaves things together that are beyond my control. And now you’re here, and it all makes sense. All this time I was growing and maturing, I was really just waiting for you."
I’m not perfect and I never will be, but God has gifted me with the experiences and opportunities I needed to get ready to be a mother to my little boy. Those four words – I love you, Mommy – uttered enthusiastically and innocently by a two-year-old represent the highest compliment anyone has ever paid me. Ever. He might as well be saying, “You made it, mommy, and it was all worth it. I’m so glad you’re mine.” I think as moms we thrive on affirmation - from other moms, our child's teachers, or our family and friends. We just want to know we’re doing something right. And what higher form can that praise take than coming right from the mouth of your own child? Of course he can’t verbalize to me whether he approves of how I’m handling this whole parenting gig, nor do I expect him to be able to formulate that perspective for about 30 years (based on personal experience). However, from where he stands (about mid-thigh) he knows that he loves me. He knows that he feels safe and loved when he’s around me, and that I bring him comfort when he’s sick or hurt. At the end of the day, that’s really all I’m trying to accomplish, so his proclamation is enough for me.
And of course each time I relish in that sweet voice and reflect like a sap on our emotional connection, I always have in the back of my mind that it may not always be this way. He will eventually stop running to me to sit on my lap and will no longer take my face in both his hands to give me a big sloppy kiss. He will grow up and likely go through a period of time when he believes his mother is not cool and shuts me out of parts of his life. Hopefully this phase will be short-lived, and I will have the faith and patience to give him the freedom he needs to grow up, knowing he’ll be back. As for right now, I am absolutely cherishing each sweet moment with him and storing them away in my memory. So someday when he slams the door in my face and cranks up the tunes (oh my gosh, I’m already uncool), I’ll take a deep breath and remember the times that little boy told me he loved me. And I will choose to live in that truth, waiting patiently in the knowledge that for every rough patch, there will be many more rewarding ones.
I have the love of a two-year-old, and I feel like a queen.
