Reading between the lines

She’s still learning ABCs. In fact, she’s still learning the song that goes with them. Her LMNOPs are always a jumbled mess. Perhaps she’s transferring her responsibility when she sings, “Now, I know your ABCs. Next time won’t you sing with me.” They’re her ABCs too.

But, reading, she claims she can do that. Nearly every night, she grabs 5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed or her The Jesus Storybook Bible and reads us a story.

This night, God’s word won over the monkeys. And, she opened the book up randomly and started to read.

Then, Jesus was on the cross, [dramatic pause and slightly quieter voice for dramatic effect] and He died. Then, his friends put him in a cave and put a big, big ball in front of it.

Then, she leaned in real close and in all seriousness told us, in a raspy whisper:

Then, something mindblowing happened.

This Mother’s Day, whether or not I get my perfect cup of coffee, I’m going to celebrate my motherhood because I may not be the best mom, but somehow my kids—even the one who can’t read yet—are reading between the lines.

I don’t homeschool or feed them organic food. My boys have mouths full of cavities, and I still give them gummy fruit snacks. I text too much, check email too much, and read and write blog posts during family Wheel of Fortune time. But, despite me, they’re learning something mindblowing. And, because of that, this mama is putting her feet up for a bit this Sunday and celebrating not me but motherhood itself and that I get to watch that happen.