Between sick kids, furious holiday planning, and paying the bills, I found myself sitting in my easy chair watching a movie with two kids on my lap. Bridget, normally a total Daddy's girl, insisted that she just had to sit with me. And then came Quinn, also usually Daddy's, at my elbow, wanting up too. I sat, not looking at the screen, but at the little heads on my chest. I could lean down and inhale the smell of them, feel the weight of them, and soak up their warmth.
Later, after they'd gotten down, and I picked up my favorite vice (the computer) I found that a preemie I'd been praying for, had died. On Christmas Eve. His parents, faithful people, had to say goodbye to their baby on what should have been a happy night for their family. I could feel the tears rolling down my face as I thought of their loss. Then I thought of each of my children, here with me. I picked up Liam and didn't even mind that he pulled on my hair or drooled all over me. I was just so grateful to hold him in my arms and know that he's okay.
Sometimes, the Magical Mommy Moment isn't in how I parent them, but how they become the healing magic for me. Because at that moment, I wasn't at all concerned with what a crappy year this has been, but I was filled with overwhelming gratitude for the many gifts I have.
