My baby, you make me a better person

I snapped.

I screamed to be left alone, to stop pulling on my pant leg.

“Please, just let me do these dishes!”

I threw the plate in the sink, leaving a chip on the side that I know will continue to grow, the same way this chip in my mama heart may, always reminding me of this moment.

I turned and I cracked.

My heart cracked as I saw my son panic, looking for someone to run to, someone to save him, from me.

But he didn’t find the arms of anyone else. He ran to me with tears streaming down his cheeks, rosy and round from toddlerhood.

My heart cracked again when I scooped him into my arms and he squeezed with much more force than I expected for a tiny, not even 2-year-old, body.

He squeezed with relief, with fear and confusion. His arms tightening around my neck.

But this doesn’t make me feel suffocated. It makes me feel grateful.

Grateful that his love is unconditional.

Grateful that he exists, and continues to not only challenge me, but to save me.

He makes me a better person, and when I’m not, he forgives me.

We just melted there together. Our bodies relaxing into one another, knowing we’re safe.

Home.

His hand reached up to touch my cheeks while I whispered how sorry I was for getting upset, how loved he is, how amazing he is.

And then he closed his eyes, and we both let it all go.

And now he’s here, snuggling me and sleeping peacefully, as if 20 minutes ago never happened.

My son is everything I want to be.

Loving.

Caring.

Forgiving.

Strong.

Emotive.

Empathetic.

Resilient.

I am by no means a perfect mom. I mess up all the time, even still. But one thing I know for sure is that I was made to be his mom. I was created to create him. I exist so that he could. I find comfort knowing that while I’m not perfect, I am his. I am HIS mama, and that’s because I’m the best mama for him.

I’ve got this, even when I don’t. Losing your cool doesn’t make you a bad mom.

Getting frustrated and touched out, doesn’t make you a bad mom.

Wanting alone time, doesn’t make you a bad mom.

Even worrying if it does, makes you a good mom.

Mama’s, we were chosen for our babes. They were hand picked for us. And us for them.

We’ve got this, even when we feel like we don’t.

Originally published on Kael Eibl Facebook.