Moments of parenthood beauty

His small hand grasps mine and we walk down the road.  He picks the direction, and as we walk, he talks.  He opens up about his day, which is rare, and instead of "I don't remember" or a sigh and "Why do you always ask me so many questions?" it's "Hey, Mom, guess what?" and I hear the real reasons he got in trouble at school for the first time all year.  We stop to look at lichens on the tree branch, and he asks about the plants we see (and I'm tempted to make up names like his daddy does when I don't know).  He is glad to be walking with me, and there's no place I'd rather be.

I visit him at school for lunch, and even though he knows I'm coming, when he sees me at the bottom of the steps, his face lights up like Christmas.  And in between the boys posturing their coolness, my little boy runs and jumps straight into my arms, covering my face with kisses.  I feel like a celebrity as he drags me around, introducing me to everyone in the cafeteria, "This is my Mommy!"  And though the cafeteria smell takes me back twenty years to times of awkward isolation, suddenly I feel cool for the first time in my life.

She sits behind me in the car and chatters about her day and her friends.  Sometimes, she speaks so properly and grown up for a four-year-old that I have to hide a smile, or she would become embarrassed.  This morning, she reminded me as I was getting shoes that I "needed socks as well".  And when she was asking for clarification she said, "Am I correct in that we went there yesterday?"  She grows before my very eyes and sometimes I don't recognize her for her blaze of beauty and confidence.  But I know her in the shriek of excitement when I open the door every evening and that sweet smile that lights up her brilliant blue eyes.

These are the moments I want to freeze time and savor.  I want to replay these when the hurtful words and tearful tantrums make me fear that nothing we are trying to teach them is sinking in.  I want to hold their tender hearts in mine and be reminded that their sweetness, not their anger, is really who they are at the core.  I need to see this beauty when the chore of getting through the day seems an insurmountable task.  I want to feel their strength, confidence, and resilience when I fear sending them out into the big, bad world.  I want to know, deep down in my soul, that every day is oh so beautiful, just the way it is.  Let me love them just for who they are, even in the moments that aren't so profoundly sacred.