We went to Wisconsin for the day to visit with family. All three little ones fell asleep on the two hour drive home. About five minutes before we reached home, one woke up sobbing. The other two were a bit malcontent as well.
We pulled in the driveway, and I pulled Mae (who wasn’t crying) out of her car seat. It was nighttime. The sky was dark.
She reached up with her little finger and pointed to the sky.
“Mama, sky. Sky mama! Mama moon. Stars.”
Her eyes were wide. It’s a sight she sees multiple times a week, and yet each time it’s like the first time for her.
And each time, I don’t look up. I look over. Into her eyes. Watching her watch what feeds her soul with wonder.
That’s one of my favorite things about motherhood. It’s that beautiful sights and wonderful sounds and Heavenly scents are no long limited to what they are. Now they are beautiful and wonderful and Heavenly to their little eyes and ears and noses. And I get to breathe that in.
Us adults don’t remember the first time we smelled a rose or touched the cold snow. We can’t relive that wonder. Until we have kids.
And then, the whole world is new again.