I heard him crying.
He was supposed to be sleeping.
But he wasn’t.
Instead, he was calling out for me.
Yelling my name.
And, to be completely honest, I didn’t want to get up.
I’d been on my feet all day.
So, naturally, the moment I began to rest, I was called back to action.
To give of myself, yet again.
And as I made my way down the stairs, I wondered what it might be.
Maybe he couldn’t find his favorite stuffed animal.
Maybe he was going to ask for a snack.
Maybe he would want more water.
But I was wrong.
For about the billionth time in this short journey through motherhood.
Because all that crying.
All that calling out for me.
It wasn’t about stuffies or snacks or water at all.
“Mama, I just wanted to tell you I love you.”
That was it.
His heart was aching, bursting with a love he hadn’t adequately expressed before drifting off to sleep.
So I held him close.
Kissed his sweet, chubby cheeks.
Told him that I love him to the moon and back.
And then I reminded myself of the one million reasons why I will give of myself, time and time and time again, for my littles.
Because getting up for them?
And it’s a privilege.
This post originally appeared on Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward