When Dallin B was born, my heart hurt daily. The emotion causing the ache was such a new one and didn't yet have a name. The only previous emotion in my repertoire to relate it to....was sadness. But I wasn't sad at all. Yet, it was as strong as a deep sadness- one of the strongest emotions I had known up to that point.
Come to find out, it was simply motherly love. That feel-so-much-it-hurts emotion is nothing short of pure love for a child.
It's no longer a constant companion as it was in its debut period. It's faded with time as the newness wore off and familiarity crept in.
I miss it.
And I never reject a visit when it unexpectedly materializes. The reappearing is ever so subtle while unmistakably present. Suddenly, I feel tears patiently waiting at the edge of my enlightened eyes during routine moments. I instantly recognize its presence. And I bask, thirstily watering my dehydrated heart that yearns for these doses of sensitivity to chase off my draining symptoms caused by everyday living. And after each nurturing moment, I can only hope it wasn't the last one.
Today was one of those days.
Kaia grabbed her bag, hoisted it right on her elbow, was saying her bu-byes, and throwing kisses. I watched her new-as-of-yesterday routine, and was just stopped by amazement. She was imitating me. And she was smiling so big. And she knew exactly what she was doing. And she needed to go outside RIGHT NOW. And she pulled my hair for the first time in frustration. And I knew her determination.
But I really experienced each one of these things. Almost as if I was watching and feeling a movie of me interacting with her, looking at each unfolding scene with keen curiosity and engrossment.
And I couldn't help but watch more intently. These kids really love each other. Like, it's radiating off of them when they're on like this. I witnessed it as if it were a phenomenon. I'm still not convinced that it's not. But I felt as if I were watching through virgin eyes and the sweetness and sincerity was overwhelming.
Dallin B's been sitting on some gift cards to the local toy store that he got for his birthday. Since Deeter's birthday, he's been dying to make a run there....to get his brother a birthday present. We made it to the toy store and he looked around wanting to select the best of the best, the most of the most, for his brother. And he didn't stop there. He gladly agreed to buy Porter something as well. I felt that pride of goodness. This was my boy! The one I live with and see everyday. But today I saw how good he is. And I really appreciated it.
I was picking the big boys up from their Treasure Island and walked in as Porter was just getting on the floor to write on the poster. I watched him carefully pen out each letter to form perfect little words. I felt my heart thumping in anxious anticipation, that maybe- just maybe- he was writing what I thought he was. He loves me. And he knows I will always love him. I know I interpreted a 5-year-old's sentence with the depth of a 31-year-old mom, but I literally felt like I might burst. My baby loves me and knows I will always love him. I've read few things in my life that have evoked such awe and live emotion.
Kaia steadily came looking for me tonight. And we would just laugh. I started to sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider- her favorite song- and her belly laughing instantly infected me and we sat there, together, chuckling away. I smelt her spinach ravioli breath and wanted to memorize the disgusting scent. Because it was connected to these repeated sweet moments that showcased her bubbly, laid-back personality. She's amazing. I mean, really amazing.
The chaos and the craziness and the doubt and the uncertainty and the frustration is all laced with spontaneous gifts of extraordinary normality.
I've locked today in the books and am going to look back on it and unwrap it again and again.