I always knew I wanted to be a mom.
No, really, always.
I always knew I would love the chance to raise my own babies and watch the grow and learn. But I never knew just how amazing it could be.
You can’t know until you’ve experienced it.
You can’t know how much pride you’ll have in watching your baby sit up for the first time.
You can’t know that the length of the list of amazing things your baby does will shock you.
You can’t know how much your heart will leap when you look at a sleeping face.
You can’t know how unimportant much of the world becomes once your orbit shifts to this tiny thing.
You can’t know how full of wonder everything in the world can become.
You can’t know how much more fun holidays will be.
I always thought I liked Christmas before kids.
And even last year, with our first only being one, it was a fairly enjoyable holiday. But this year, with Lily two years old and completely aware of the world around here–with her capacity for understanding and enjoying things like presents and Christmas trees and lights and family time–I can feel myself getting more and more excited.
Simply the act of wrapping their presents this year is exciting. I can just picture Lily lighting up as she sees what she’s gotten, or as we stroll through a lighted village, or as we ride a train to Christmas town.
I want to give her every experience I can, and show her how magical the world can be at Christmas time.
I haven’t seen the magic of Christmas–not truly–since I was a kid myself.
But, through the lens of motherhood, I’m seeing it again. I’m feeling it again.
I’m realizing how differently I experience life now that I have children of my own, and it’s magical in itself.
Even while I listen to my toddler talk to herself, though she’s supposed to be napping. While there are toys sprawled across my once-clean living room floor.
There is nothing so equally frustrating and magical as being a parent. And I’m incredibly grateful to be given the chance to live this life.