Wow, am I exhausted!

I started to type ‘it has been an emotionally exhausting weekend’ but I stopped long enough to explain that statement to my internal editor only to realize how negative that presents. Still it is true. From the run across the rain drenched parking lot on Wednesday to a slow drive on eastbound I-20 to the velvet and satin antique quilt draped across this king sized bed. I have heard babies cry and teens laugh, words prayed and sang; moans and grunts and sighs and shivers. From the anticipation to exhaustion, it’s been a great weekend.

Time with family is always filled with emotions, or it should be, right? Who else would you tolerate all that crazy from? Morning sleepy eyes and late night games, dirty dishes that came from a table set for thirteen, and a jungle lunch of summer sausage and cheese off the tailgate of my daddy’s dodge pickup at the New Foundland Gap. Oh no, there’s that emotion again, in the form of a memory.

Emotions don’t scare me. I’m a mom, a super hero of the parental kind. I am the planner and organizer, the adaptable and the fill in, sometimes the referee and the nurse and the taxi driver and tourism coordinator; the go to for the “what if’s” and the “how comes”. I am the answer to “what now?” more often than not and even on the days when I haven’t got an ounce of strength left in me. Even on the days when I just want it to be about me.

Regardless, it’s okay because I know that I would give my last ounce of emotion, my last drop of energy, to make things great for my family. I would give yours too if I could access it. My family is worth the investment, the time, the smiles and giggles and tears and spilt Dr. Pepper and silly questions about Buzz Lightyear and a friendly competition to see whose turn it is to ask the blessing before we eat.

It’s always been worth it because little boys put their confidence in their mommy from the very beginning. When they are hanging over the toilet with a bad stomach virus, “MAMA!”; when they wreck the go-cart or the truck, trip trying to hurdle a picnic table and bust open their forehead; when they forget their homework or their lunch money, when they have their first girlfriend and need a homecoming mum or a valentine present; when they disappoint someone they love and they need to talk it through.

I am proudly exhausted and emotionally honored to lay my head down tonight to the sound of family in the next room playing games and the sound of silence while the prayers are being worded. I sure hope they are praying for me.