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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.

RELATED: God Gave Me Sons

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.

RELATED: The Nights Are So Long

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.

RELATED: Motherhood is a Repeated Offering of Love

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?

It’s exhausting.

And it’s a privilege.

This post originally appeared on Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward

 

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Krista Ward

Krista is a former teacher turned stay-at-home mom to three insanely precious little boys, Hudson, Jones, and Royce. She is married to her best friend and high school sweetheart, Randy, who is the peanut butter to her chocolate. Krista hopes to be a light and joy to the world, especially other mamas feeling stuck in the daily grind, through her writing.

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