Today was different.
It started like most days, getting the kids ready for school. While E finished her breakfast, I was changing C. I sat down on his floor and got him dressed and then he sat in my lap to get socks on.
The first pang.
It is one of my favorite things- when they start coming over and plopping down in your lap. It makes my heart warm. But it holds memories of the other little boy who used to run over to sit in my lap. Bold and proud.
"Ba!" he yells. Pointing at the ball across the room. His socks on, he runs over to grab it. We've always been careful to say "ball" instead of "a ball," but it is still a little tickle in the back of my mind. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if my mind hadn't already been there.
He's bouncing the ball in the kitchen. "Ba! Ba! A ba!"
Damn.
I'm about to go to Mothers' Day Tea at E's preschool, but I'm stuck in the feedback loop of our first Mothers' Day. The one that felt like we weren't supposed to celebrate, like we weren't real mothers.
So this is for that first little boy. The one who tackled me to sit in my lap on Halloween. The one we took to the pumpkin patch and it exclaimed "A ba! A BA! A BA! A BALL!" as he picked up the pumpkins.
Him and his sister. And the little girl before them. The kids who taught me to be a mother. My heart will always be broken, but its worth it knowing you each have a little piece of it with you.
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