I’m writing this on Mother’s Day, a week late due to a Disneyland trip, two emergency vet visits, and a major flood in our kitchen due to a burst pipe. I’ve recovered enough to enjoy a day of reflection and happiness that I can celebrate this day as a Mom. We tried for fifteen years to have a baby. I never believed it would happen; but after three years of intensive infertility treatments (which are more expensive than a daily crack habit) we got two for the price of one.

My daughter jumped into bed this morning, hugged me tight and wished me a Happy Mother’s Day. She has been super affectionate and loving today. She gave me a handmade coupon for a “movie out with a friend,” helped her Dad and our next door neighbors put on a lovely Mother’s Day meal (complete with a cool table centerpiece made of little animal moms and babies), and took over many chores so I had time to read, relax, and even take a nap. She is a lovely child.

My son did not wish me Happy Mother’s Day, give me anything, hug me, or give me any extra help (in fact he had to be forced to help his sister clear the table.) What he did was spend half the day creating a special Game of Life pattern to show me, follow me around the house telling me all about his best Scrabble words, most interesting 4-D theories, and recent math formulas (completely oblivious to the fact that I was trying to read and relax.) But every moment he sat by me talking non-stop and tapping a pattern on my leg, I was filled with happiness. This complicated boy is also a lovely child.

My husband put their birth picture as wall paper on the computer today. I am looking at that moment and remembering how I was hoping and praying they would be okay. After a risky, frightening, hospitalized pregnancy, they were finally here. My son is scrunched up, eyes tightly shut, and obviously trying to avoid this new loud, bright place. My daughter (all three pounds of her) is wide-eyed and taking in the sight of this exciting outside world. That snapshot captured their personalities pretty accurately. My son is still cautious and prefers to avoid the outside world. He loves his little boy-cave cocoon, the safety of his home, and the loving protection of his family. My daughter can’t wait to get out into the world, commune with everyone she meets, and experience LIFE.

Here we are ten years later, time has simply evaporated. I can’t believe we have already been parents for a decade! As I watch my half grown children mature into unique individuals, I think the world is lucky to have them. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I am grateful every day for the chance to experience life with my kids.

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