I couldn't help thinking today, as I watched my boys float from lap to lap, arm to arm of so many people they love and who so wholly love them in return, that maybe all this time I've had it all wrong.
That maybe these past four years of motherhood, I've had this day all tangled up and backwards in my mind.
That maybe, yes, it's about celebrating the actual mothers and our actual mothehood journeys with thanksgiving and celebration poured out through all the various presents and sweet actions from our husbands and fathers and children.
But, more I think it's about recognizing the real gifts that my heart was given when two little boys barrled into our worlds, our families and collided with our hearts.
Two spunky, wonderfully made little boys who've changed family dynamics --
a husband a father.
Two sisters, aunts.
Two mothers, grandmothers.
Two fathers, grandfathers.
Five grandparents, great grandparents.
And me -- a wife, a daughter, a granddaughter, a sister --, a mother.
Today, the celebration extended beyond just motherhood in my mind and the real gift, the best gift I fully, wholeheartedly received with open palms, opened eyes was this redefining of roles, this magnifying and multiplying of love that's paramount, overwhelmingly present when a new generation meets the faces of the older ones, takes captive the hearts of all the ones before.