Of course my kids think I’m crazy. I don’t think id be doing a good job of being a mother if they didn’t think that the majority of the time. The thing is, they don’t understand how much I love them. How I love them so much that I could burst with it simply from the joy I feel at seeing their beautiful faces. When I touch their shoulder as I pass, I really want to clutch them to me and hold them like I did when they were 3 and feel their little arms wrap around my neck and feel them against me when they were happy.
When I hand them a plate of dinner, I really want to spoon feed them while making airplane noises with big eyes, so I can get that toothless, hilarious and infectious giggle that new babies have and a parent will do anything to hear. I want to watch them make those faces of shock or delight when discovering new and unexpected flavors and I want to kiss them 972 times after washing their perfect little faces from the huge mess such a small person makes.
They don’t understand why I look at them with a big goofy grin on my face, for no apparent reason. They ask why I’m looking at them and they say “Mom! Stop looking at me!” But they don’t understand that the reason I am smiling at them is because they are my child and that idea makes me infinitely happy. It fills me with so much happiness that in those moments when I can stop and simply watch them for a moment, I do and it makes my heart rejoice in their perfection in my eyes.
Occasionally, they catch me which inspires their comments on why I am looking at them, especially as they got older. But I don’t care as I won’t ever stop. Asking a mother to not stare at her child, to touch her child, is like asking a river to not flow towards an ocean or for the heavy clouds to not cast a shadow upon the earth on a sunny day. A mother needs to touch her child to remind herself that they are real, they are here and that a piece of your soul is actually in front of you to see. It’s a crazy miracle that you are reminded of in fleeting moments that you have to stop and appreciate.
Of course my kids think I’m crazy, because I am. I’m crazy in love with them and have been since the first moment I knew they existed and it grew exponentially over the years of raising them. This is the reason that so many women want those precious grandchildren. They have a chance to hold those sweet little bodies and stare at them for hours on end and just let your love for them pour from you until you glow with it and the world can see how very much you love those little people who just lay there and reflect it back to you instead of rolling their eyes while trying to be tolerant of their crazy mother who wants to hug them yet again.