Being Your Mother, Right Now

WYWN - Being Your Mother

We meet some friends at the zoo on Monday. I’ve packed two identical, but separate, lunches, because you both insist on having your own. I have cut the sandwiches into your preferred shapes; triangles for London and squares for Cruz. You sit at the picnic table with your friends, you eat pretzels and fruit, but do not touch the sandwiches. The sandwiches that I cut into your shapes. That night, before dinner, we decide to walk to the pond to feed the ducks. I fill a bag with cubed, dried bread. Between the two of you, the bag is polished off long before we reach the ducks.

London is our little mama. You push your babies in the stroller. You snuggle them and give everyone you meet a hug and a pat. You are so loving and maternal and have never met a baby (real or doll) that didn’t need your attention. But you’re also a mama. “Cruz!” you order, pointing at the stairs. “No crying! Time out!”

WYWN - Being Your Mother

Cruz, you ask the best (and hardest) theological questions. “Why did God make a fruit that Adam and Eve weren’t allowed to eat?” “How will we know how to get to Heaven?” “If I tried to swallow Daddy like the whale swallowed Jonah, my bones would break!” I ask you to give London some grace for knocking over your blocks. You point your fingers at her. “I’m shooting her with grace from my heart!” Kiiiiiind of…

London, you are boy crazy. I won’t reveal names to protect the innocent, but as soon as you wake up in the morning you start asking about every boy you know. Slow your roll, girl, or Daddy is going to chaperone all of your future dates.

I am always prepared with paper and markers. You are both coloring so much these days! Cruz, I love all the lists you write. “Eat brecfist. Eat lnch. Eat dinner.” You’ve got your priorities in the right place. London, you draw big circles and alternate calling them hearts and snowmen.

Speaking of snowmen… I can set my watch by the amount of time it takes both of you to notice a closed door and then sing “it doesn’t have to be a snowman” with your lips smooshed up against the door. Like. Clockwork.

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You may never remember this, but we had the best moment on the way home from school today. Like usual, we listened to Bethel Music’s “You Make Me Brave” and when we got out of the car you both kept singing. Cruz starts the chorus,”You make me…” “BAVE!” London shouts. “Champion of Heaven, you made a-” “WAY!” “-for all to enter-” “IN!”

And that’s it, the very best part of being your mother right now. To watch you both fall in love with Jesus is such a joy and honor. Is that worth a few uneaten shape sandwiches? Every single one.

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