More Than Enough

You are the one who knows the needy cry from the mad cry from the scared cry.

You are the wiper of the counter. Of the tears. And of his bum.
And you know just how she likes the spoon swirled around like an airplane in the sky.

You are the one who does the Hot Dog dance. Or the fish face. Or says, “Boo!” seventeen times in a row because you can’t get enough of the laughter it brings.

You are the one who has her giggle and her bedtime routine committed to memory.

You are the one who wants to take photo after photo of her walking, sitting, crawling, tummy timing, and any other thing that she does. Because you want to remember every little bit of her.

You are the finder of the shoes when you were supposed to be in the car five minutes ago.

The one who is sometimes exhausted but shows up, day in and day out.

The one who knows where the missing sock is. Or the art he brought home last week.

You are the separator of the Legos.
The sucker stick holder.

And the one with kid games on your phone.

You are the one who knows his favorite shirt. Which fork he prefers. What he wants in his snack bowl. And where he’ll stash the bowl when he’s done.

You know what makes her mad. And how to walk on the eggshells surrounding her, if necessary.

You are the one who secretly thinks your kids are the coolest humans on the planet. Or not so secretly.

You are the one who knows that he is going to ask to wear shorts the minute it is above freezing temps.
And the one who tells him to grab his jacket, justincase.

The one who knows which princess dress is her absolute favorite.
And which bow she wants to wear on a Tuesday.

You are the kisser of the owies and the bumps and the bruises. And the snuggler away of the emotional wounds.

You are the one who gives him a high five when he has his proud grin on.
The one who knows which day she has hot lunch. And when she needs more money in her lunch account.

You are the person who wants to make sure everyone is happy. And that you are loving them all the same. And the one who knows that you could never have a favorite.

You are the carrier of the bag. With the diapers. The crayons. The sippy. And the stuff.

You are the one who heeds the deadlines for sign-ups for camps. And activities. And leagues.

You are the schedule keeper. The task master. And the mean one, when necessary.
And you are the one who plants your bottom on the bleachers. In the rain. Snow. And summer heat.

You know what she’s feeling when she likes that boy but he doesn’t like her back. Or when he wants to make the team and doesn’t.

You are the person who is the keeper of the moments. And is rarely in photographs of them.

You know when his finals are. How he studies best. And what he feels most passionate about.

You know when she’s lying, straight to your face.
And you know exactly why she’s doing it.

You know where his glove is.
Where her tap shoes are.
Where his notebook went.
You know his favorite team.
And you sing her favorite songs.

You are not his friend. But you can’t wait until you get to be.

You know when she wants to talk. And you know when she doesn’t. And then, you also know when to push her to talk even though she doesn’t think she wants to.

You feel every feeling he feels. To the nth degree.

You are the curfew maker.
The Shake It Off shaker.
The banana bread baker.
The cell phone taker.

And the fight breaker.

You are the one who gets asked for money.
And time.
And life.
And the one who worries more. Than most anyone else.
And the one who expects more. Than most anyone else.

You are the waver of goodbyes from the front porch.
The one who will always remember more than they’d ever want to know.

You are the holder of his heart. Until someone else can do it better.

And the one who steps aside (but never away) when the new heart holder arrives.

You are the dreamer of his dreams. Until they start to take flight. And even then after.
You are the see-er of her beauty.

And the believer in her potential. No matter how big she grows.

You are the one whose life forever changed the very millisecond you knew about him.
And whose life is better because you get to know her.

You are a lover of him. And everything he is. And will be.
You are his mother.

You wonder, over and over, Am I what he needs? Or, Am I Enough for her? Because you forget, you surpassed enough for her the minute you held her for the first time. The second you breathed him in. That moment you knew you’d be sticking around. And that you were made to be his momma.

With all that you are and all that you do, for as long as you get to be, you are not only enough. You are far far more. Because YOU are his mother.