Monday, April 20, 2015
On Being Needed
While we were in Idaho, I experienced one of the sweetest moments of my life so far. Lila woke up in the middle of the night, screaming (that's not the sweet moment part). She was sleeping in bed with me since she'd been so sick and wouldn't sleep anywhere else. I reached out and put my hand on her back and said simply, "Lila..." she immediately turned toward me, threw her arms around my neck, squeezed as tight as she could, and stopped crying basically immediately. She was soon back asleep, arms still wrapped around my neck. She just needed me.
On her sickest day, she needed me. She wanted me to hold her. She wasn't okay with anyone else doing the holding. If I tried to get up, just for a minute, to get a drink (always within her line of sight), she'd be off the couch and following me before I made it five steps, even though she wasn't willing to walk at any other point in the day. I wasn't doing anything special for her--just holding her, occasionally rubbing her back or her head--but she felt at least marginally better or perhaps just comforted by the simple act of touching me.
Asher likes to share everything with me. If we're going to watch a movie, he scoots over on the couch and says, "You can come share my blankie, Mommy." If he's built something cool, he says, "Mom, I'll show you how this works!" Whenever he draws a new picture, he comes to show it off to me, seeking my approval. He offers to help me on projects and with dinner. He lets me have a turn playing with his favorite toys.
And Reed? Well, honestly, Reed is more of a Daddy's boy and is quite independent; he is six years old, after all. But he is always the one who asks me if I can cuddle in bed with them at the end of the day, then wants to talk about our most favorite and least favorite parts of the day and make plans for the day to come. He loves to snuggle up together and read a book just the two of us, trading pages. And he loves to have our daily mommy and buddy time.
Motherhood is amazing, really--to be the one person someone else needs so completely. I know that as my kids get older, they will need me less. There will likely be times when they are sure they don't need me at all. But now, I am needed. And I hope that my children will know that whenever they need me, I am here.