I'm Loved

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
-Raymond Carver

I'm still new to celebrating Mother's Day for myself - we got home from the hospital just days before the holiday last year, so I was pretty bleary-eyed and zombie-like for last years' Mother's Day.  It's odd to have a holiday that all your life you've celebrated as a day for other people, and have it suddenly turn into a holiday for yourself.   

I could recount to you the details of my day yesterday, and maybe you would realize how nice a day it was for me, and maybe it would sound kind of boring.  But here, instead, is how I know I am loved.

My husband cleans the kitchen and scrubs the tub for me.  He puts away Maeve's toys every night, washes her bottles by hand, and feeds her dinner.  He makes playing with Maeve his first priority whenever he's at home.  He bought me an absolutely beautiful necklace for Mother's Day which was exactly what I wanted.  His words to me are kind and well thought out, and I daily experience his patience and love.

My friends watch Maeve for me so that I can shop, exercise, or sleep - and have since she was so tiny that all she did was cry.  They come over to my house to make a meal instead of making me chase Maeve all over their un-babyproofed abodes.  They encourage me when I feel like I'll never lose another pound or bake a proper pie crust. They listen to my endless Maeve narratives, and read my blog.

My family also have the grace to visit here in lieu of making us drive with a cranky toddler all over creation.  They almost always only offer advice when asked, and give out compliments at the drop of a hat.  They remind me of who I am when I need it most, and make me laugh.  They babysit for free, and give Maeve love and indulgence.

My Maeve lays her head on my lap and smiles at me.  She sings little songs about Mama while she's in the stroller, grabbing her toes and grinning.  She rejoices to see my face in the morning like I painted the sunrise, and stares solemnly at my face when I give her a bottle.  She hands me rocks, sticks, crushed dandelions, and carpet fuzz, not to mention books to read and puzzles to solve.  She pats my leg soulfully when I'm not paying attention, and she spends all day waking me up to the present.

So thank you.  I am overwhelmed by your love.