My Son

I remember nursing this now huge baby, his tiny feet crossed at the ankles, his toes the size of tic-tacs.  Everything was precious and smelled good - even his diapers were cute. 

Now he is picking up Cheerios and Gerber puffs and (usually) getting them in his mouth!  He is crawling and sitting and pulling up on everything in sight.  He comes home from daycare dirty and stinky.  It is adorable and so, so incredible that I had anything to do with how fabulous he is.
 
Robert and I were talking the other night about dreams... dream jobs, dream homes, etc. 
"What's your dream, baby?" he asked. 
I thought for just a half a second and answered, "I'm living it." 
I meant it.  And I was sort of realizing for the first time that being a mama is what I was made to do.  I enjoy all the other roles of my life -  wife, teacher, daughter, friend.  But Miles is my contribution back to the world.  I don't mean to say I ever felt something was missing before he came along, but I did sort of always feel like I was just okay at everything - not stellar. 

I'm a good writer, but not great. 
I'm a good teacher, but it isn't my life. 

But even on my worst mommy day, I know I'm always doing my best.  And that feels good.