When Kids Come Running

Last week, Mayer lost his wallet.  He’d worked hard to pay for that wallet and when he purchased it over the summer, he was excited to put his remaining change and few dollar bills inside it.  

(Here we are on our date the day he purchased his new wallet.)

He carried it around and I could tell he felt like a grown-up when he pulled his wallet out to pay for a purchase.

A few weeks later, the wallet was lost.  Was it left at a store?  Did it fall out on a bike ride home?  Steps were retraced, tears were shed and prayers were offered, but the wallet was nowhere to be found.

School started and so have the hectic mornings of half-eaten bowls of cereal, last-minute signatures and gelled-back hair.  The kids are doing great and their excitement far outweighs the stress of adjusting to a new schedule and new teacher, but some mornings are just too much.  Tired kids, disheveled homemade lunches, running a few minutes late and before I know it, someone has said an unkind word.  Bringing back a good-morning-gone-bad is like lassoing in a wild horse.  Sure, you can get the horse back, but he’s still acting wild.  Yes, some mornings are better than others.

By the second week of school, the kids had homework and assigned reading and although it had been a difficult morning, the afternoon was proving to be much better.  

(Making homemade milkshakes together.)

Mayer was studying in his room when he came running into the kitchen.  Before I knew it, he had his arms wrapped around my waist so tight, I stopped everything I was doing to hug him back.  With some of the tension from earlier in the day, I instantly melted into the hug.

“Mom, I found my wallet,” Mayer said and explained while making his bed, he’d found the wallet on the floor near the base of his headboard.  How it got there, we’d never know, but it’d been found and that’s all that mattered.  His prayer had been answered and for that, he was grateful.  As my son skipped back to his room, I had to reflect for a moment on the tender, yet zealous hug I’d just shared with him.  He’d literally come a’ running, to me, the moment of that joyous experience. 

Me.

Out of all the things he could have done, Mayer needed to validate himself with me, through that hug.  This is literally one of the best things about being a mom.

This is not the first time the glory has been shared with me, but it still is one of the marvels of motherhood.  Even when one of my kids run to me with tears, it’s still the same reality – kids need their moms in moments of reflection, awareness and discovery.  They need their mom’s full attention, physical affection and affirming words of validation.  These moments, glued together through days and years of quality time, through the hours of gazing and bonding, through the highs and lows of parenting create a rockstar-like persona for the mother where she is the one, the perfect one to run to in a crisis or to celebrate a momentous occasion.  It doesn’t mean a mother has to be perfect of even know how to fix a situation; it just means a mother is there as the immovable and constant.  A mother’s love is the fix and the reward because no matter the situation, the love between mother and child is bigger.