Motherhood and the moment that found me on a Tuesday afternoon

    A few weeks ago, I dropped him off for his first day of his last year of preschool. I’m still wrapping my mind around this reality. My fourth child, William, is now five. He’s losing his baby face and becoming a young boy.
    After picking him up, we made macaroni and peaches for lunch. We looked out the window and noticed the gray storm clouds rolling in. Rain began to fall and sounded like marbles dropping on our roof. After it settled down, we went outside to explore puddles and find worms.
    “Momma, look the baby one! Aww!” Will exclaimed.
    He’s always had a passionate love for bugs, worms, rolly pollies, frogs and anything crawling.
    As Will splashed in the puddles, stomping his camouflage boots, I knew this was the real stuff of life right here. Nothing fancy. Nothing grand. Not a Disney World experience. Just a rainy, typical Tuesday afternoon with my brown-eyed boy. Some might call it mundane or boring, but I found it magical. Heavenly, in fact.
    A moment where there were no struggles with his strong will, but he was completely content as a friend to the worms. It was a moment where we were together, and the cool breeze and leaves falling on the ground gave us joy that fall was on its way.
    Will bent down near one of the puddles looking for new wiggly creatures. He scooped them up and stretched them out with his fingers.
    “Look! I’m tearing them apart Mommy!” His hands were shaped like a spider-web.
    The rainwater revealed a reflection of his little hand and I thought back on his delivery day that summer in August, when his tiny little fingers curled around my own and he was completely dependent on me for his life and sustenance. When I couldn’t stop smelling his newborn scent or kissing his cheeks.

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