Something happens to a woman when she becomes a mother.
A little human is now dependent upon her for everything.
She must teach this little person to become independent of her.
You’re a mother, too, so you understand this.
We’ve carried our kids when they’ve fallen down.
We’ve wiped their tears and let them crawl into bed with us in the middle of the night to protect them from their scary dreams.
We’ve held them when they were sick and feverish, cried with them when their heart was broken, and laughed with them until our sides hurt from silly antics.
When you came into our lives, I was a little concerned.
I worried that you would see and hear all the funny things I didn’t get to witness.
I was nervous that you would experience new things with them and I would miss out.
I was afraid that my kids would share their hopes and fears with you and forget about me.
I didn’t want to be replaced.
Then one evening when I arrived to gather my children for the week, you were there in the kitchen tidying up and laughing with my daughter at something funny she said.
She was always cracking jokes and making people laugh.
You shared the joke and we all laughed together.
Then, you sent us on our way with extra dessert you had baked yourself.
And as I drove home that night, I knew that my fears of not always being there for my children were lessened.
This wasn’t about me. This was about them.
Maybe I am not there for every smile and laugh.
Maybe I miss nights to tuck them in or hold them when they have a bad dream.
Maybe I constantly worry while I am away from them.
Maybe it hurts to go to bed alone at night when they are gone.
Maybe an empty house devoid of children’s voices and laughter leaves a hole in my heart.
Maybe I fail sometimes and say the wrong things.
But I am learning, just like you.
And I know that my children have someone else in their life who cares for them.
They will come to you when I’m not there to help them with a problem.
They will look to you for guidance when they have a question or concern.
They will turn to you for safety and protection when they are scared.
They will laugh with you and share silly jokes.
They will travel places with you and see new sights.
They will make memories with you that are just your own.
They will love you.
That is more than I could hope for.
Thank you for mothering my children.
For I know you love them, too.
Apprentice Editor:Lindsay Carricarte
Image: Vinoth Chandar/Flickr