My Heart Wears Velcro Sneakers

Ever since I was a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a mom.  At the time it didn't mean anything more to me than the superficial things.  You know, dressing up my little girl in the prettiest dresses and then pushing her around in a stroller to show her off.  The possibility of having a boy never even crossed my mind.

My daughter at 1 yr old

At twenty two I had my daughter.  While it wasn't the fairy tale circumstance, she was my fairy tale baby, seven pounds, three ounces of pure beauty.  Her head was covered in a thick cap of silky hair, her skin was cream and roses, she had eyelashes that went on for miles, and the most perfect little nose.  It was love at first sight.

My daughter at about 5 months

Then somewhere amidst my princess pink, baby powder scented world, reality hit.  I was now responsible for this precious little life.  How on earth was I going to teach her right from wrong, turn her into a decent woman, heck, get her home from the hospital with out something bad happening to her?!?  I found myself seeing everything with new eyes.Life was no longer just about me, and the uncertainty of it all was terrifying.  I remember watching one of those "end of the world" movies that I had previously seen half a dozen times.  This time around I cried through the entire thing imagioning what I would do if that were to really happen.  Normal baby milestones were even teeming with peril, (or so I thought).  Solid foods were a choking hazard, walking was a falling hazard, and stairs...forget about it, I carried her!  If I could have wrapped her in bubble wrap and pre-chewed her food, I would have.

My daughter and I

When my daughter was eleven months old I found out I was pregnant again.  This came with mixed emotions.  More than one child was something I had always wanted, but the thought of being able to love someone else the way I loved my baby girl was beyond me.  I soon learned I was having a boy.  This meant shopping for all new clothes for him, something I had enjoyed greatly when I was pregnant with my daughter.  It just wasn't the same.  Many times I would find myself feeling down right sick with the pressure of it all.  I would have to leave the clothing department just so I could put my mind on something else.

When my son was born, all my fears about a lack of love disappeared instantly.  One look at that little face and I realized I didn't have to take any love away from my daughter to love my son, he already had his very own spot.  My heart had just gotten bigger to accomodate it all.  My children have become little pieces of my heart, around 3 ft tall, walking around outside of my body in tiny velcro sneakers.  When they hurt, I hurt.  When they cry, I cry.  But I also experience their joy, marvel at the wonderment they find in every new discovery, and bask in their achievements right along with them.

                                                     My son and I 2008                   My stepson, daughter and son 2008

My daughter age 3

   My son age 2

Motherhood thus far has been an exciting, emotional, and frightening journey that I wouldn't trade for anything.  So everyday I resist the urge to clothe my children in body armour before sending them out into the world.  Then I remind myself that when they were born, I gave them each a piece of my heart, and when I collect them at the end of the day, I will once again be whole.

The pieces of my heart and me.