Wednesday, March 10, 2010


I remember when my girls were little, how they would react when Todd arrived home. They would run to him and scream with excitement. I always felt the pangs of jealousy when this would happen. They never screamed or ran to me when I showed up. Simply because I was always there. Always a constant. No need to get excited over something that never changed.

These days, I have found my own cheering section. When I walk through the door at my mom's house, little feet run to me and scream with glee. These are the faces that greet me:

It's amazing what those smiles can do for a person. I'll even admit that they're better than a cupcake topped with frosting. I feel like my self esteem jumps a notch every time they scream because they are excited to see me. And my added bonus, they cry big tears when I leave. That, my friends, can really fill your love bucket.

I've realized over the last year, that I take more time to sit, watch and soak in all that these babies do. I find that I can't remember sitting and soaking in my own girls when they were this age. Why, I wonder? Did I not take the time to let each stage take hold in my memories? Or, was I simply just too tired to have the energy to take a mental picture of each milestone? I think my answer might be hidden in the day-to-dayness of surviving life when your kids are little.

I have come to accept where I am at this moment. I'm settled with the fact that my kids get excited, even now, when Todd arrives. Yet, no one shouts joy when they arrive home from school and find me where I always am--here. I remain the one, true thing that doesn't change. I don't leave, and show back up hours later (even though I want to). I am the constant. I am here. Without fanfare, or cheers, or applause. I remain steady, because of my love for them:

Motherhood has an endless list of challenges. But one of the hardest is not being recognized. No one seems to see what we do. No one expresses appreciation for the work we silently accomplish day after day. No one squeals when we walk through the door. But yet, we have the greater prize. We are the constant. The foundation. We remain here, ever present. Not for ourselves, but for these people we are bound to with love.

Maybe one of our biggest hills to climb, is to find a way to keep on being exactly what they need....their constant. Days and years will pass, and I will look back and I won't be able to remember their stages or what they were like at each age. But I won't forget that I was there. With them. Right where I will always be.



Anonymous said...

Shoot- there goes my makeup :0. You made me cry, but I love it- you have a power with words, my dear. Thank you so much for the things you write- it means a LOT!!

Raquel said...

I get excited to see you and I cry when I have to leave... does that help?

Shelly said...

I really love that picture of your girls - it is beautiful! And believe me, one day your girls will appreciate the constant presence that you are in their lives.

Becky Leland said...

BEAUTIFUL - being constant is precisely what your girls love and need!!! Keagan and Riley too!

Get Real Girl said...

Your daughters are beautiful. I have three girls, too. This post is so perfect. My girls do the same when they see their dad. They just expect me. A lot of days I can feel invisible, but I know they need me. We really are their constant.

Kristin said...

I have had many similar thoughts lately, although they weren't nearly as eloquent in my mind as you put them in this post. Thank you for writing that. The twins are adorable, and that is a beautiful pictures of your 3 girls!

linda said...

I have 4 girls, Lisa is 48, Leslie is 40, Joyce 36 and Blue is 32...
they don't scream when they see me, but they do light up and give off a glow. Lisa kind of wiggles and beams, Leslie tries to be the "staid" one, but there is a shimmer, Joyce gets giggly and Blue just opens her mouth and says "hey ma! i love ya!".....so, my point is, they may not do it now, but just wait, you'll see, it's going to happen.