The morning of Mother's Day, I opened my eyes to the sound of Dan pushing open Porter's bedroom door. Porter's room is snuggled up right next to ours, and you can hear absolutely everything, including the creak of his door being opened when he lets us know it's time to get up each morning. Typically I get up with Porter because A) I'm usually up anyways and B) I'm just an awesome wife and mom (you get to say things like that the day after Mother's Day). So, at 7am on Mother's Day, I couldn't help but smile when I heard that wonderful door creak and realized I wasn't the one opening it. Yes! I get to just lay here and relax! Yes! Dan's going to change Porter's diaper and make him breakfast and let Sherman out to pee! Yes! It's Mother's Day! YES YES!
And then two seconds later ... I hear ... "MAMA, MAMA, MAAAAAMA."
Dan opens our bedroom door, plops Porter down on my big belly, crawls back into bed, and says "happy mother's day, Tiff." There was just enough light in our room for me to see a little smirk on his face as he drifted off to sleep. Love you too, Dan. Love you, too. ;)
I tried my best to feel sorry for myself. What, no breakfast in bed? No extra hour of sleep? But with Porter still saying "mama mama" while laying his head on my pregnant belly, and Sherman now licking my face, I couldn't help but feel more like a mother in that moment than I ever have. Those little moments, the moments that happen when you think you'd rather be sleeping ... those are the special ones. Those are the moments that make you a mama.