12/01/2022
I love this.
Most nights, after I tuck the boys in and kiss their precious, squishy cheeks and pray over them and remind them of how glad I am that they’re mine, I can’t stop thinking.
About that moment that I was grumpy toward them.
When I was far less patient than I should’ve been.
How they saw me get frustrated when things weren’t going as planned.
That if I’d just been more organized, dinner would’ve been ready on time.
About how their clean clothes are still in baskets on the laundry room floor because I just couldn’t manage to get it put away for some reason.
That those crumbs on the hardwoods are still there, but I’m tired, so there they’ll stay.
How I’m often not the mom I dreamt I’d be, and motherhood’s a whole lot messier than I ever imagined.
But tonight, as I dragged my weary feet down the hall to our room, I noticed the heart. The plastic, heart-shaped bracelet my oldest had found in his nightstand and deemed “our” heart, the one that he and I would sneak onto each other’s doorknobs to remind one another of our love. It’s become our thing.
But tonight, that heart hit a little different.
Because as he tiptoed toward my door to hang that reminder of his love, I know without a doubt he wasn’t thinking one bit about my impatience or our late dinner or the crumbs on the floor. His heart was overflowing with love. A love that my husband and I work so dang hard to pour into him and his brothers until it’s running over.
And there, on my doorknob, was the overflow. The spilling over of all that love we pour into him, day in and day out.
So keep pouring.
Loving them is messy and imperfect. Just keep pouring.
Shared with permission from Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward