A Mother's Birth

When I went to pick up N at preschool a few weeks back, he was out in the yard playing with WeeyumWise, and in no mood to be interrupted. So I went into his new preschool room and, after signing him out, looked around a bit. I hadn't spent more than a few moment in that room since Em graduated from the preschool in 2002, so there was a lot to look at.

On one wall was a remnant from the preschool Mother's Day celebration, a poster with a quote from each kid, saying why he or she loves his or her mother. It was Carlos' quote that made me catch my breath: "I love my mother because we were born together."

That may be one of the most nakedly and inadvertently truthful statements I've ever heard. It's what I've tried to explain to so many people, so many times in my life, when I talk about what motherhood has done to me, how it feels, what it means. Except, when I try and do it, it takes at least a fistfull of paragraphs and several hundred words to even come close. Carlos did it in one sentence made up of nine words, with a gut-punch of an ending...we were born together.