What an honor

I’m feeling sentimental this morning. Life has been so busy, and I’m working on slowing down for me and my babies. There are days when motherhood can feel like a blur. I go through the motions, work through our daily routines, and it’s a never-ending loop of snacks, spills, laundry, and car rides. The noise is constant and the chaos is endless, so it’s easy to forget what a privilege it all truly is. I don’t know if it’s age or becoming a more “seasoned" mom, but lately, I’ve been slowing down long enough to notice the magic hiding in the ordinary.

I get to be the one they come to. When they’re proud of something small, when they’re hurt, when they just need someone to listen to their stories about preschool or the cookie they ate with Grandma last week, I get to be that person. I’m the one they run to when they can’t find the right words, or when they need a hug that doesn’t ask for anything in return. 

I get to be the one who hears their stories first. I get to hear about the wins, the worries, the heartbreaks. I get to see their faces light up when they find me in a crowd. I get to be there when they’re still learning how to navigate this big, beautiful, messy world.

It’s so easy to get lost in the lists, the errands, the endless mental tabs open at once. But the older I get, the more I realize: this is it. These are the moments that make up a lifetime.

One day, they’ll grow up and the house will be quieter. But I’ll still be their person, the one who gets the text when they have good news, the one they call when they need to hear a familiar voice.

I don’t take it lightly. I get to raise them. I get to love them. I get to be their home base in a world that will ask a lot of them.

What an honor it is to be “the one.”