I am so lucky to be your mom.

To have gotten to inhale the scent of newborn from the top of your head for all the days it lasted

I’m so lucky it was me you woke in the night for food or comfort (or both)

And to have been cross eyed with exhaustion

I am so lucky to have ran your bath water and lathered your head with shampoo (sorry for the times it got in your eyes)

I am so lucky I got to make you oatmeal for breakfast lunch and dinner when you went through your picky stage (and lucky these things pass)

I’m so lucky I get to see you be so kind and gentle to your little brothers (and proud that you also don’t take their nonsense)

I’m so lucky to have kissed you and bandaged your bloody knees and hands and elbows and forehead when you learned to ride a bike (or were just running to catch the bus)

I am so lucky I get your artwork all over my refrigerator (or the sheetrock when you can find some tacks)

I am so lucky to have a windowsill full of special rocks you rinsed clean in the bathroom sink

I am lucky to have a muddy sink to wash up

I am so lucky to have a windowsill full of dandelions in summer

And windows and doors and walls full of dirty handprints

I am so lucky to have mountains of laundry

I am so lucky to have witnessed your height marks on the wall get higher and higher each year

I’m so lucky to stand back to back comparing height with a daughter who passed me up

I’m so lucky I get to watch you grow and learn (often the hard way)

I am so lucky there are so many different sizes and pairs of shoes scattered about the floor

I am so lucky to have a lawn littered with balls, chairs, paper airplanes (the latest rage) bikes, trikes, scooters, cups, plates, shoes, blankets and string cheese wrappers (currently, it varies)

I am so lucky to have sand in my sheets

And Cheerios to crunch underfoot

And syrup to sit in

I am so lucky to be your mom