And so there were three...

 I sit here every night rhythmically swaying back and forth, back and forth humming tunes from The Sound of Music. My tone deafness means nothing.  My two year old is nuzzled up against me, "puppy" in his arms and his precious feet poking out from his baby blanket, which his sweet body has outgrown.  Sweet unrelenting, heartbreaking bliss. The epitome of hypocrisy.  And every night I want to freeze time.

You see, it wasn't too long ago I was a "wild child". Like most teenagers I could not wait to break free from the reigns of parents. They held on too tight, asked too many questions and always ruined a good time. Typical woes of an American teenager. When I could get away with it I partied, did things I'll never tell my kids about and did the opposite of what my parents asked. I am not going to carry on here about the martyrdom of children from divorced families. We have all seen and heard enough of that in the media and everywhere we go. It's not an excuse, but in my teenage head, my parents got divorced. They didn't  deserve my respect. Well, I showed them. 

I was 17 I moved out. I turned down three college acceptance letters at four year schools. School was always easy to me and I got by without trying very hard( we will save that hard lesson for another time). None of my friends were going to four year schools and I wanted to stay with them. I enrolled at the community college and carried on.

That summer I met my husband. The summer of 2003! If only it sounded as catchy as the summer of '69, we could have a song too. Well now, nearly ten years later here we are, a nine year old, a seven year old, and this sweet angel of a two year old that I never want to stop rocking.  Now I am sure because you are able to read this, you are able to do simple math calculations and you realize our oldest came along before we had the chance to say "I do". And the second followed before we had the chance to say "I'm ready".

Now I would be lying if I told you that I entered motherhood with grace and readiness. In fact, I was 19 and anything but ready. When I was five months pregnant, Jordan and I got married.  As nature would have it, Noah came along shortly after.  We were young, we were stupid and we had no clue what do do with this life we were responsible for.  When the news of my Rylee-Grace came along, I spent six hours in the bathroom sobbing with a 15 month old baby standing over me. I would once again be lying if I told you my mother's intuition had improved with her birth.  Now don't get me wrong, I was always a good mom.  My kids were clean, fed, happy kids that got held, snuggled, rocked to sleep ect. I remember comments about what a great mom I was for being so young.  But my heart wasn't ready.  

Four years later, Noah is 6 and Rylee is four. Jordan and I had been married nearly seven years. We had journied through the challenging years of marriage, entering adulthood, raising children and completing my education all at once.  (Picture a game of Jenga; no picture playing Jenga with a two year old). Disaster. We bought a house and lost it. We bought a truck and lost it. We lost a lot trying to measure up.  The news of Declan reignited a fear that I thought was stagnant. I wondered if I could do this again. It wasn't until we knew what love was and had been in the pits of it, that we really realized what it meant to be a parent. To my suprise The second Declan was placed in my arms, Jordan and I knew he was exactly what our hearts needed. They were all were exactly what we needed!

I sit here now, two "big" kids in thier rooms, holding this baby as he snuggles in my arms and I ponder how long I can keep him little, while I know the truth...not long. His precious breathe on my neck and the up and down rhythm of his back as he breathes reminds me of what an incredible gift I have.  The gift of motherhood. An ex boyfriend of mine said some words that have stuck with me, shortly after her found out I was pregnant with my second. He said "you'll fit in good in the south, it seems like your good at being barefoot and pregnant". At the time, I was humiliated. Now I couldn't be more proud!

I wonder now, as my kids get older how I can tell them "don't make the mistakes I made " and "listen to your parents, we have been there" while convincing them that they have made me whole, and loving them and being thier mom has fulfilled my purpose here on earth. How can I convince Rylee-Grace to wait, when she is the most incredible gift I have ever recieved?  How can I make Noah understand how hard the road can be if you don't plan carefully, when despite all of our mishaps, we got him and he is my world? How do I convince Declan of the incredible difference being emotionally prepared can be?  Though the road has been rough, I am exactly where I need to be and I count my beautiful blessings everyday.  Stretch marks, empty bank accounts, a loud home but an amazingly full heart.

And a mom. And if mom is all I ever am, I will be the luckiest person alive.