There's a woman in our neighborhood who runs a small, in-home daycare, and she sometimes brings her children to the park near our house. I was pushing the boys on the swings when I heard her group approaching. As they ran through the trees to the playscape, a tiny little girl, who seemed less than two, saw me, cried, "Mommy!" and ran to give me a hug. I was a bit taken aback at first, but she was so sweet that I just had to reach down and hug her back. Her teacher explained that she is really friendly and loves to give hugs to everyone.
Later, the little girl bumped heads with another child, and while her teacher was comforting her, she saw me again, jumped off the teacher's lap, and ran to me with her arms outstretched, once more calling, "Mommy!" This time, I immediately reached for the little girl and tried to soothe her as I returned her to the teacher's lap. We laughed about how cuddly she is, and I kissed her chubby cheek before passing her back to the safety of her teacher's arms.
Then I watched my boys, who are no longer babies, climb the playscape and run alongside the older children in the class. My boys who are growing up before my eyes, and who no longer need me like they did as babies. James is three going on 30, and he is becoming more independent every day. Rhys will be two next month, and while he will always be my youngest baby, he is asserting his own identity more with each passing minute.
Of course my little guys still need me, and I am the center of their world, for now. But just then, if only for a moment, it felt so wonderful to hold a tiny little girl, and hear her call me "Mommy." Even though she did not know me, she recognized something in me and knew that it was true.
Later, the little girl bumped heads with another child, and while her teacher was comforting her, she saw me again, jumped off the teacher's lap, and ran to me with her arms outstretched, once more calling, "Mommy!" This time, I immediately reached for the little girl and tried to soothe her as I returned her to the teacher's lap. We laughed about how cuddly she is, and I kissed her chubby cheek before passing her back to the safety of her teacher's arms.
Then I watched my boys, who are no longer babies, climb the playscape and run alongside the older children in the class. My boys who are growing up before my eyes, and who no longer need me like they did as babies. James is three going on 30, and he is becoming more independent every day. Rhys will be two next month, and while he will always be my youngest baby, he is asserting his own identity more with each passing minute.
Of course my little guys still need me, and I am the center of their world, for now. But just then, if only for a moment, it felt so wonderful to hold a tiny little girl, and hear her call me "Mommy." Even though she did not know me, she recognized something in me and knew that it was true.
