Every weekday morning, a piece of my heart walks out the door and climbs up into that yellow school bus. That piece of my heart belongs to you, my sweet child. Every day I tell you I love you and that I hope you have a great day at school. By now, these words probably just sound like a broken record since I have said them so many times. If you could only understand the depth in which I mean them.

Every weekday afternoon, you hop off that same bus, run toward me, and wrap your little arms around my neck. As our hearts reunite, mine can now beat a little slower, knowing you are safe and back in the shelter of my outstretched arms.

It is the long hours in between when you are never far from my thoughts . . . 

Do the other kids on the playground notice you? Notice how silly you can be? Do they know that you are loyal and kind? Do they notice if you are feeling left out or sad and need a friend?

Does your teacher get to see all the personality behind that shy smile? Does she notice the way your eyes light up when you get excited about something? Does she notice how hard you try to be a good listener?

As the hours tick by, I wonder . . . have I done enough for you, to prepare you for the challenges you might face that day? Have I helped you to become brave enough, to make the right choices, to notice when others might need a helping hand?

If you are scared or lonely, have I taught you enough about seeking out the one who created you and is always with you, even when I am not?

You see, my precious child, on the day I found out that I was going to be your mama, I surrendered a piece of my heart to you. A special part that our Creator formed especially for mothers, to give to their babies.

When you are sad, my heart hurts too.

When you are happy, my heart bursts at the seams.

When you feel pain, my heart aches.

And when you laugh, my heart soars.

We are forever linked, you and I.

Every time a piece of my heart walks out the door and climbs into that yellow bus, I am reminded that I have been given the most precious gift of all—being able to share my heart with you.

Mary Ann Blair

Mary Ann Blair is a stay-at-home mom living in the Pacific Northwest with her two little gentlemen and hubs. She loves connecting with other parents who like to keep it real! Her work has been published on Her View From Home, Perfection Pending, That’s Inappropriate, Pregnant Chicken, Sammiches and Psych Meds, Red Tricycle and in Chicken Soup For the Soul. She can be found at miraclesinthemess.com or on Facebook at Miracles in the Mess