Mother's Day 2016
Mother’s Day 2016 The night before Mother’s Day, Ryan took me on a date that consisted of shoe shopping followed by appetizers and drinks. Although shopping isn’t really his thing he seemed genuinely interested in the shoes I was trying on, smiling, giving input. I guess he wasn’t really interested in the shoes, but he saw me. I had all his attention. I wore my new sandals right away to the restaurant. (My boys feel the same way about new cleats.)
We ordered appetizers rather than meals. That’s my favorite on date night. We share off of the same couple of plates. It’s romantic and intimate. He saves me the last strip of fried zucchini because he sees how much I am enjoying it. I nudge the largest stuffed mushroom his way because his eye is on it. We prefer each other.
We eat at the bar side by side rather than across from one another. Shoulders and knees brushing, able to lean in and whisper or literally laugh-out-loud adding to the chatter all around us. I choose something frozen, swirly, and pretty to sip through a straw and he goes for something on tap. We match somehow.
He tells me, “Happy Mother’s Day.” We laugh and wonder at the life and family we have waiting at home. The messy, blunder-ful, wonderful, full to the brim, spilling over life we have.
We talk about hard stuff and easy stuff. He knew me way before I was a mother. We are not the same people we were back then and in some mysterious way, we are just the same. Moments like this where we are just us two, we are still just…us.
We are now more known to one another as we see different expressions of ourselves on display in our home, children, and life. Sometimes we see things we don’t recognize. We assume it must have come from the other person until we realize that our combination creates it’s own uniqueness. Something new exists because we exist together.
And for this, I am granted motherhood. I cultivate life, beauty, and fragile newness that grows into strength. And Ryan allows me all the space, protection, provision, encouragement, and freedom I need to dive deeper into that role, all the while holding my hand so I don’t get lost.
He is the only one in my home who simply calls me, Amie. He remembers me. He sees me without titles. Simply his Amie.
Mother’s Day morning he sent me out with coffee, a book, and a journal to go be me all by myself. While I was out, he readied my kids and home to honor myself and the mommies within his reach with a special brunch. The kids were excitedly anticipating our enjoyment.
He teaches them to honor motherhood and respond to it’s role in their life. It was a happy Mother’s Day, complete with a nap. Mommy loves naps, and new shoes, and blueberry coffee cake, and special artsy supplies I have been eyeing, and sweet notes, and all the effort and thought that went into making me feel special.
Thanks for reading!
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