Blessed

There have been times in my life when I’ve felt lucky. Finding four-leaf clovers in the front yard. Making a wish and it coming true. Discovering a $20 in my pocket that I’d thought I’d spent or lost. But very few times in my life have I ever felt truly blessed.

I’m not one for organized religion. It’s never really done me any good. My family would say it is because I put my faith in people instead of God. And they may be right. Some might say I believe in the wrong God. They could be right, too. I don’t know, and that isn’t really what this post is about anyway.

No, this post is about my own personal little blessings that keep me going. My saviors, not gods. I’ve mentioned before that I have children, three of them. They’re all so different and unique, which I am sure most parents feel the same about their kids. But in all of my years, I’ve never met kids like mine.

My oldest is so much like me, it’s almost scary. She has an attitude. She tries to mother her siblings, which drives both me and them crazy. She is creative and talented in ways that I can only dream about, though. She has so much potential for her future. I hope that she is smarter with her future than I was in planning mine.

My son is tough, like his father, but also sensitive like me. He, like most men and boys in the south, try to hide that sweetness and emotion. But he just can’t bottle it all up. If he thinks he hurt someone, immediately, he apologizes and tries to fix it. He’s caring and affectionate. He’s not the kind of kid to get embarrassed over giving his mom a hug and kiss in public or openly telling me he “loves me bigger than Nana’s front yard.” I hope that never changes.

And my youngest… My sweet baby. She is the most tender-hearted, loving child I have ever known. She can’t fathom hurting someone, emotionally or physically. She’s timid. While she doesn’t want to hurt, she would rather take the pain than cause someone else to feel it. She is unintentionally kind, and it’s when that is directed at me that I realize just how blessed I am.

I’m at work right now, have been for the past eight hours. The first two were particularly hectic. My mother messaged to ask how it was going, and I told her just how busy we were and how stressful it was. Not five minutes later, I got another message. My little one had asked her to send me a video of herself, telling me that she loves me. That she hoped the night would get better. That when we go on her field trip tomorrow, I will have fun with her and be happy. Oh, and that no one will die tonight. Yeah. It made me laugh, and I might have teared up a little.

But that 17-second video made my night. And the night has only just slowed down, but it wasn’t so bad anymore. That precious little girl took time away from playing, and she thought of a way to make me happy. She didn’t know it would make me breathe easier. She just hoped to make me smile, even a little. She, they, will never know just how much they are the source of my happiness.

They ARE my happiness.

And maybe some people will disagree with that. Some might think that I shouldn’t base my happiness on others. Normally, I would agree. But my children are my world. My lifeline. Before I had kids, I was happy. But since I’ve had kids, every piece of my joy is rooted in them. I can’t, don’t want to imagine a life without them.

They are my saviors. My angels. My own little blessings.

*If you want to watch the video, follow me on Instagram @klove1224