As some of you may know, Grayson and I attend a group called "Momtourage" for preschoolers and homeschoolers. We have been a part of this group for a few months and it has been an amazing experience for us both. I really enjoy allowing him the time with other children alongside all of us moms enjoying adult time together. We do sensory activities, music, picnics (inside or out), take field trips, etc. We allow the kids the perks they would otherwise get from a preschool or school setting.
On that note, today we had spring pictures. After our photos, we had our first Easter egg hunt. Well, almost...
When I spent all that time wishing, hoping, praying and waiting for a baby, I did a lot of daydreaming. Every time a holiday rolled around, I would imagine what it would feel like to have my own tiny human to experience the fun with. In my daydream, Easter egg hunting would have gone something like this: Grayson begins by posing perfectly beside his egg basket for a photo followed by a group photo. He then goes out to hunt eggs, whilst holding his basket. He picks up several eggs, places them into his basket and has fun doing so. He then let's me eat all of his candy. I'm probably kidding about the last part.
How it really went: Grayson hates his 50 freaking dollar personalized basket. He runs away when I try to take aforementioned photo. He refuses to be still for the group photo because he is trying to run toward the eggs the entire time. Finally, he gets the go ahead to hunt eggs. I release him and he is so excited that he takes off rocket running, trips over his own two feet and face-plants into the gravel driveway. I Neosporin him up and we try again, but he is completely over it.
We calmly walked to my car and ate our lunch. You simply can't win them all. I forfeited that one. No candy for Mom.
The logical side of me has been around enough children over the years to know that what happened today is the real dream. The chaos, the unexpected, the disasters, the fits, the injuries, the lack of cooperation... The real dream is about spending holidays with my son. It's about me being flexible and not holding my baby up to ridiculous standards. It's about giving him the ability to grow up slowly and learn as he goes. It's about me having the privilege of being the one who gets to help him off of the pavement and doctor his boo-boos. It's about experiencing the gift of a friend selflessly giving him some of their eggs and candy because he had none of his own. It's about being his shoulder to cry on. It's about encouraging him. It's about accepting him exactly as he is. It's about the life lessons for us both.
It's about the blessing of being called his mama... and that was the dream all along. I'm living it.
I thought I maxed out my ability to love him anymore when I saw that 8 celled embryo (perks if IVF), again when I saw those 2 pink lines (more like one pink line alongside a shadow of an almost line that was visible only when squinting and tilted just right in the light, but there nonetheless) and about a million more times after that. Tonight, I go to bed loving him a little bit more than I did yesterday, amazed and thankful to God for the joy and life lessons this child brings me.
I did manage to get some seriously adorable photos after the craze settled down a little:
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