Mother's Day

This past Sunday was officially my first mother’s day!   Last year, Frankie was still just a little Zygote. I think I was only 14-15 weeks or so.  I remember my dad took us to dinner.  It was nice.  Gosh, I miss my dad.

Anyway, this year we went to “brunch” with mommer, my sisters and husband. We ate, talked and took these perty pictures. 

It’s true; sometimes I can’t believe that I’m a mother.  I think about the meaning of being a mother and I just can’t fathom that I’ve been granted the privilege of being a mother to Frankie.  He knows who is mommy is. He extends his arms so I can pick him up.  He smiles at me with those toothless gums every morning.  He knows that I’m going to pick him up from the crib and say good morning to him.  I say, “Good morning baby. Did you sleep well?”  and he smiles. Then if I go to open the shutters he starts crying because he thinks I’m going to leave him.  Then I pick him up and kiss him good morning and we walk to the window and he looks out and smiles.  I put him down on the changing table to change his diaper because it’s usually dirty at this point. 

My heart aches when he’s crying and I can’t get to him fast enough.  I need to comfort him immediately.  I don’t like when he cries or gets hurt.  Yes, he’s learning how to “Crawl” so he bumps his forehead a lot. I pick him up and hug him and kiss  his boo-boo.

Isn’t it sad to think that one day those knees are going to get scarped from bike riding or far worse, some girl will break his heart?  Uugh just to think that makes me want to cry.

That’s life right?

But for now, we have crawling, teeth and solid foods to worry about.

With a tear in my eye, Mayra