motherhood // hard love

let's flash back to the days when andrew and i and would clumsily pull on our boots and trudge through the janurary snow for dinner somewhere, anywhere, downtown desolate kansas city because our fridge and cupboards were bare.  or when i would work until three in the morning serving drinks at the jazz bar up the street, only to wake up at seven to head north of the river to teach all day.  on those long days, my sweetheart would would visit me on my dinner break just to sneak in a kiss by the back alley before heading home to walk our dog.  gosh, that newlywed love sends butterflies right back.  or back to the day not so very long ago when we thought we were loving as hard as our hearts would let us.  we would snuggle in on the couch during a movie, arms on top of arms, legs around legs and eyes looking in eyes.  so connected.

oh, how wrong we were.  so in love, but silly wrong about how hard we would be able to love.

because seeing your babies become friends, that my friends, is hard love.  it's love so hard that it hurts and tingles and overwhelms the soul like a waves swallowing rocks near the shoreline.  not one at a time but all at the same time.  it's love so hard that it knocks you back and up and down without notice until you are sitting there, in a lovers daze, watching your babies smile at one another, giggling side by side, talking without speaking, and really just learning to love one another.

this love, it's raw and delicate and really just the most perfect kind of love, if there was ever such a thing.  this love is hard because you know how fleeting these moments are.  you see so much potential in its growth as it ripens over time, but in the same token, you want to freeze it and keep it this sweet size forever.  it's hard, hard, beautiful love and i am ever so blessed to know it.