I am not worthy of the absolute trust my son grants me. I do not have the super powers that he attributes to me. I’m just Megan — 29 years old, often impatient, sometimes lazy, perpetually doubting. Lacking in self-confidence, always worrying about what I should or shouldn’t be doing to raise this boy right.
And yet, when LilRunr wakes himself coughing in the middle of the night, even though daddy picks him up and rocks him it’s “ma ma ma ma” that comes out of the lad’s mouth. And it’s “ma ma ma ma” who cuddles him and pats his back (an old standby that always comforts him) until the frustration of being awakened against his will had subsided. In a few minutes he’s ready to go back to bed, and even though he’s awake when I put him down he’s relaxed and at ease enough to go right to sleep.
I can’t ease all of his pain…but he thinks I can.
I can’t fix all of his problems…but he trusts me to make them disappear.
I’m just weak, stubborn, far-from-perfect me…but to LilRunr, I’m perfect, awesome, Super Mommy.
I don’t deserve it. I’m definitely not worthy. But I do love this little man to pieces.
And today, courtesy of an 80-degree day in late October, I’m going to take the jogging stroller to his daycare, pick up my happy, squealy, lovable little guy and “run” him home this afternoon.