Three years ago at this time I was either in the hospital or on the way there. Labour had started a couple hours earlier but we didn’t want to rush things so after meeting, I read magazines and ate Skittles, just waiting. Finally, that night – it was a Tuesday- we decided to go into the hospital. The next day, our son, Zachy, was born.
So tonight is the eve of Mother’s Day and the eve of my firstborn’s birth.
Here are the two boys that have made me a mommy. My silly, tender-hearted oldest, and my more serious youngest. Patrick loves his mommy and I can often find him at my knees wanting to be held. After rubbing my hair and sucking his thumb a little, he’s ready to go back and play. Zach loves tricks and ‘funny things’, which often involves throwing toys in the air and just all around making a mess. He’s quick to say ‘sorry mama’ and wants me to be pleased with him.
And I am pleased. I’m pleased with both my boys, both my blessings.
Recently I’ve noticed Zach taking my hand when we walk places. I insist on holding hands to cross the road and in the parking lot, but in the mall and in the park, as long as he stays where I can see him, I don’t insist on it. But recently, he’s been coming up to me to hold my hand when he doesn’t have to. And that means a lot.
