Mama...
the first thing I hear in the mornings and the last before I tuck them in all safe and warm; blankets pulled up to chins as I whisper I love you and they whisper it back.
Mama...
warm little hands holding onto mine tightly as I guide them across the streets; lazy walks to nearby parks; arms held out wide for me to catch them as they slide.
Mama...
when did he get so big and too grown-up for a hug before school? I grab him and wrap him up anyway making a rosy red blush color his cheeks.
Mama...
new words learned; new adventures to be had; seeing the world through their eyes as if for the first time, everything has a new meaning; life takes on a different purpose.
Mama...
with each child born, my love is multiplied; each child holding my heart in the palms of their hands, and I am like putty, forming and bending and molding into place.
Mama...
when they say I love you for no reason at all; my breath catches in my throat with surprise and I want to make time pause for just a while longer.
Mama...
the best feeling in the world...
to be their mama.
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