Um anyways so back to my story. So there I am, sitting in the kitchen frosting dairy-free cupcakes for the multitudes of dairy-free friends we have acquired, and I'm feeling pretty motherly. It's easy to feel motherly the night before your child's birthday party because you are sacrificing FOR THEM, frosting the cake, cleaning the house, setting out the perfectly selected plastic-ware, all while the little darlings are fast asleep. I love my children deeply and fiercely. Sometimes I love them even more when they are sleeping. I finish my work, and it is good. Very good.
|I think I am supposed to say I found the ideas for both the cake and cupcakes on Pinterest??|
I felt that I had just drifted into a deep, deep sleep when I was rudely awakened. It was Brad.
"Sorry....but Gianna is awake and I think she doesn't feel good and she only wants you."
Hmph. I look at the clock. It's barely past 2 am. All feelings of motherliness are long, long gone. I trudge down the hallway. Attempt to communicate in the dark (never, never works out) and finally bring Gianna into the kitchen, where she asks for some yogurt. I move to lay on the couch but she insists I sit right next to her at the counter. Sigh. Fiiiiine. Fine. Fine.
As she eats her snack, she revives as bit and looks around. She notices the cake and cupcakes and balloons. In her sweet, slightly-too-loud nighttime voice (she doesn't wear her speech processors at night and thus cannot hear how loud she is talking) Gianna asks me,
"Is everything ready for Dominic's party?? Did you do that when I was sleeping?"
Well yes, my daughter, I did. She is in awe. She smiles widely at me. Then she says, "We are having special time right now! Just you and me in the kitchen! Daddy is sleeping, Dommie is sleeping, Aunt Monica is sleeping, Uncle Richard is sleeping, baby Thomas is sleeping! But not us!!"
She is so thrilled by this notion that I smile...genuinely, this time. It might be easy to feel like a fantastic mother when I pretend I am being asked to give much of myself as I frost a cake in the peace and quiet of my kitchen late at night. It might be more difficult to embrace my vocation when it's not on my terms, but ultimately...this is what matters. Cakes and balloons are nice, but my kids want me. I realized that they desire a quiet conversation and stolen snuggles in the middle of the night, more than they want the perfect birthday cake. I think I knew this, but lately, I forgot. They are growing into incredibly unique and funny little people, but I'm going to miss it if I get distracted by all the things that don't really matter.