From my gate in the Philly airport.

The airport might be my favorite place to people-watch. And people-watching is definitely one of my favorite things.

Today, I observed a little teeny tiny baby in a stroller. Bazillions of people were all around her -- I say bazillions, it was the security line so honestly it might be more! ;) -- but this little doll baby only had eyes for her mommy. Those eyes were locked in watching mom's every single move. I couldn't help but wonder if mom knew how fast those eyes would find the rest of the world. I couldn't help but wonder if she was desperate for a moment alone -- a bathroom break even -- where she didn't have little eyes watching her. I wanted to hug her gently and encourage her exhausted spirit.

The one in bazillion in line right in front of me had tattoos on every visible surface. I will admit that I was mesmerized trying to read the words behind each ear (One said "Love to hate" and the other "Hate to love.") but it was the spider web all over the back of his ear that fascinated me most. Ouch. I was wondering what drives someone to cover every surface when he turned around and asked where I was going. I laughingly asked if he could tell I had been reading every tattoo on his head....he couldn't but admitted that he often forgets and then asks people what the **** they are looking at? I was rather glad he hadn't felt my eyes. We had a lovely talk about the choices  and if the spider web was painful (It was.). The conversation was as colorful as the tattoos on his head and neck and I might have cringed a bit (I can't help it. I think there are enough words in the English language to avoid a couple....) and then he looked me straight in the face and asked if I could see the tattoos looking at him straight on. I could but just barely and just the ones at the edge of his face. He told me his mama told him to do that. "She said, 'Leave your face, clean, son'" he explained, "And I've always listened to my mama." 

And suddenly the two people I had been observing while waiting in the line, didn't seem so far apart. 

Oh mamas, those little eyes are watching us, they are. And though, I promise, you will eventually get to the bathroom alone (I have been told this anyway), your child will keep his eyes on you and your influence for far longer than you imagine!

From my heart's overflow.

You should be warned that it is way past my bedtime and I tend to get emotional when it is past my bedtime. My hubby is away and my little redhead is snuggled in my bed. I should be sleeping. But my heart overflows. And from the overflow...I type.

If you have visited me here before, you are sure to note that I type for many reasons. I type to process. I type to remember, to ponder. I type to capture the emotion and store it away for later. Because some days, some days are hard and I need to look back a bit and remember.

We celebrated Little Red's birthday all weekend. And it is the celebrating that I am pondering tonight. I love birthdays. I love celebrating the days that changed my life forever -- the days my children were born.

As a teenager, I often worried that I was not passionate about anything. Oh, I liked a lot of things. I enjoyed choir -- but I was far from the best singer. I loved theater -- but I was far from the best actress. I loved photography and reading, writing and even cross-stitching. And God even granted me abilities in some of those areas. But I feared I had no passion.

I worked at my hometown newspaper between college graduation and marriage...and loved that job. I was super excited to go to work and super excited to actually do the job! I didn't even mind eating generic cereal for every meal because my pay check was so small. I began to realize my passion.

And then I married Wade and we moved away from my hometown newspaper and the best job I was sure I would ever have.

In the early years of our marriage, I knew we would want children eventually but as the oldest of three, I was hesitant. I knew my shortcomings with my brothers. I knew how easily I had lost my cool with them when it was my summer job to watch them and keep them out of trouble. I knew that patience was right up there with my singing ability -- something I desired but came up lacking. What if it was the same with motherhood? Oh I was apprehensive.

And then when I was sure I was ready -- and my desire to have a baby outweighed the anxiety -- my body did not cooperate. And when after more than a year of disappointment, we found ourselves expecting THREE babies at once, I went into labor far too early and had weeks of laying in a hospital bed where every one around me was holding their collective breath that I would stay pregnant even ONE more day, much less the weeks my crew needed to survive.

When the trio were born, they each cried a little cry to let me know they were breathing on their own before being whisked to the Neonatal Intensive Care where I would not even get to see them for 24-hours. They would not leave the hospital with me from more than two months.

Eight years later, when baby Cate was born, she immediately cooed and babbled and let us know that she was breathing and talking. I was determined that if I had to use super glue no one was whisking her away from my side.

And so, April 18 and November 9 are not days like any other. Not for me. Those are two days when God said that in spite of my many shortcomings, He had chosen me for this incredible task, this job to rival all my jobs, this passion that fills me and drives me in all ways -- the role of mother to Benjamin, Mason, Claire and Cate (that's birth order, folks!).

And so tonight, I type, because I want to remember the gratitude that is welling up. I want to remember to be thankful in every hard moment of motherhood, in every delightful moment,  and every scary moment and all the moments in between. I type because I know that this gift of celebrating BIRTH is one I never want to take for granted. I pray that I can celebrate these beautiful birthdays for many many years to come -- always always thanking God for allowing me to be the mommy to these four.

There are pictures to come. There are funny stories to share. But tonight is for words. Tonight is to thank God for the best job I could ever imagine, the greatest passion on earth and the blessings that are my Benjamin, Mason, Claire and Cate.

Yesterday was not a good Mommy-day. I lost my usual cool. I lost my calm. I lost my patience. I didn't like the loss.

Following Claire's recital with Grams, Cate and Me!

I felt rather spent. At the end of my rope.

Celebrating Lenny's graduation (and wearing his Honors cord!)

 But a dear lady stopped at my van as I picked up my crew from their late-night theater rehearsal.

My bow-tie-wearing Mason!

And in a few words she put life back into perspective. Her kinds words were not intended to encourage me. She was complimenting my boys. And yet, her words were like a healing balm to my stretched-a-bit-too-thin heart.

She was praising my boys for their involvement in this production (Did you hear they are doing four more nights of Honk!? If you haven't seen it, you do not want to miss it!). She said she was amazed at how they "are channeling their physical challenges into artistic expression!"

My handsome Benjamin!

And with those simple words, I gained a new perspective. I felt less alone. I realized sometimes others do see and understand us.

And I sighed deep.

Speak kindness to others today. I guarantee you will be a blessing!

(And especially this weekend -- be kind to those around you -- women who might be struggling with this holiday, women who desperately want to be Moms; women who are single-moms; women whose Mommy-dreams may not be exactly what they thought....and thank the Mom in your own life!!)

Go. Bless!