On this day of Mothers...

I love to watch my two little girls from a distance.  I love to see how they interact with one another and the world around them when they are uncensored and away from a grown-up's corrections.  I've seen a pattern emerge with my Ad and Pip when it comes to Wyatt.

When Wyatt is in need- whether it be a diaper change or merely a refill of water in his sippy cup, a love or someone to hold his hand while he steps down- Piper is the one to run to him.  Adi suddenly finds something incredibly important to do in the next room.  I am not harassing Miss Adison Nae.  That is her personality.  Her urge to care for others in this way is not as strong as her sister's.

Piper was born with a Mother's Heart.  She mothers everything in her site: dolls, stuffed animals, potato bugs, frogs.  Seriously, anything that appears to be in need of someone to care for it, she adopts.  

The funny thing is that these two daughters of mine remind me a heck of a lot of two other little girls.

*I'm the curly-haired one*


Growing up, my sister and I had the privilege of being the oldest girl cousins on my mom's side, which meant we were the automatic babysitters at family functions.   I have always been somewhat-less interested in babies, much like my Adi.  I would look down at my little cousins, smile, maybe coo a bit, and then I would move on.


Whitney, so much like Pipes, would grab a baby and never let go.  All of my now-adult or almost-adult cousins have had the privilege of being carried on her tiny hip for hours.  She played games, fed, changed and all-around cared for the little kiddos while I found something waaay more pressing in my room.

Whitney has always had a mother's heart.  I had to grow mine.

Now-a-days I have a gaggle of babies around me.  I wade through diapers, soggy towels, loads of laundry, and dinner dishes daily.  I cuddle, console, play, feed, nurse.. all that being a mother entails.  I had to learn to love doing these things- and not without some serious growing pains.

My loving little sister is struggling with becoming a mother.  Her aching arms yearn for a baby to cuddle, to adore.  Her body pines to share itself with another, to sacrifice itself to the upbringing of a soul.  She is ready for the stretchmarks, the morning sickness.  She wants the mountains of laundry, the sticky fingerprints on her walls, the sleepless nights.

Whitney is- and always has been- there for me and mine.  She is the Aunt that has sleepovers and goes to every mind-numbing animated cartoon.  The one that creates and teaches a dance to a room full of young girls for their school talent show (not once, but twice!).  She's taken my sick kids to allow me some rest, been on call for nursing advice, picked up the girls from school, accompanied me to pediatrician appointments, listened to my children, listened to my complaints.  She has helped me plan and decorate for almost every one of my youngun's birthdays (even when she lived a state away).  She has spoiled my children rotten and been there for guidance.  She has changed diapers, carried babies until her back and arms hurt, kissed them, swayed with them.  She comes to baseball games, dance recitals- and she is the one that remembers to bring her camera.  She has loved and cared for my children as her own.


I am not exaggerating when I say this:  Whitney is simply amazing.  She is the mother that I aspire to be.

So, on this day of Mothers, I wish to call attention to those who we may not all consider to be members of this club.  Those who do not have the minivans, but who pray for the day when they will.  

Happy Mother's Day, sweet sister.  Today is for you just as much as it is for me.  You are my children's other-mother.  You are the very epitome of motherly love. 

Someday soon you will hold a bawling baby in your eager arms.  Someday soon I will get to repay you for all the debt I have incurred over the last 9 1/2 years.  Someday I will listen to your hurt and exaggerating  little boy (because in my mind, it is always a son that you have) tell me how much you hate him and just how mean to him you are.  On this future occasion I shall wrap this upset little-one-half-Whitney in my arms and tell him all about his mother.  How long she prayed for him.  How every time she held one of his older cousins, she dreamed of him.  How she worked for him, planned for him.  I will tell him that if there is anything in this world that he should believe in, it should be the depth of his mother's love.  I will then give him chocolate because I have found that chocolate cures all pain at this age.

Here's to the women who do not yet hold a child of their own, but who are always willing to care for another's.  Today all such women deserve a flower, a loving smile, and a warm hug. And probably a yummy meal which they did not have to prepare.

Thank you, my sister, for all you've done.  Thank you for all of the many things you have yet to do.

And, most importantly, Happy Mother's Day.

P.S.  Don't kill me for putting this on my blog- you deserve the praise.