The Giving Mother

I give glasses of milk 

and goodnight kisses,

Prayers for sweet dreams

and glimpses about future wishes.

Hairstyles and haircuts 

and fingernail clippings,

A quick move to clean up 

When spilled milk is dripping.

I give a lending ear 

and encouragement 

And helpful reminders 

about where lost things went.  

I give baths every week

(showers come at my insistence)

I give piano lessons and recorder tolerance,

Clarinet and violin assistance.

I give spelling practice quizzes and

math homework nudgings,

Project reminders and stern warnings

when slow bodies aren't budging.

I give cookies and snacks 

and lunchbox notes

Riddles to solve 

Or jokes that I wrote. 

I give breakfasts and lunches 

and so many dinners.

After games- hugs for the losers,

High fives for the winners.

I give consequences when bad choices are made

I give groceries after groceries after groceries

So the pantry stands stocked 

and ready for the raid.

I give boots every year 

because they keep growing up.

Encouragement with homework 

when they think they are stuck.

I give smiles and winks 

and reassuring hugs

I'm in charge of finding lost mittens

and killing scary bugs.

I give them rides to everywhere-

band, church, scouts, orchestra.

I'm always there to drop them off,

and there to pick them up.

I give up my sleep 

to calm their fears.

I give a piece of my heart 

when I wipe away their tears.

I give comfort and love,

Routine and familiar

When Daddy goes out of town,

I stay behind, so our days remain similar.

I give up my patience,

when the days are running long

and then I give up my pride,

when I tell them I was wrong.

I gave up control of my body,

so they had a place to grow.

And when they finished using it,

I was given a new, different body to show.

I gave up some old dreams,

that don't matter anymore.

The dream that I am living now

is the one of which I've always been sure.

I realize that someday 

I'll have to give them up

when they've grown and they're ready to 

give their childhood up.

They leave me every day,

but for now they still come home

Some day they'll leave for good,

They'll be off and ready to roam.

And I'll wonder if I gave enough,

just like I wonder that today.

If they'll remember that I yelled at them,

or that I tried to love and play and pray.

That I gave them all that I could

And that I never gave up.

That motherhood is so much more than I thought it would be

And that their love always refills- and overflows- my cup.