I love being your mother.
You make me laugh.
Lola with your made-up songs, your stealth attempts at eating candy behind the couch when you know you're not supposed to, your goofiness, your flawless memory and your need to find the answer to the question that consumes you: "Why, mommy?"
And my James, with your endless energy, your coy smile, your fake (maniacal) laugh, your tendency to get into everything, your insatiable appetite and your love for all things mischievous.
You make me proud.
Lola, your insistence on saying every dinner prayer, your love for church and nursery class, your kindness in your interaction with your friends, your ability to give, your keen sense of observation, the way you know when I need a little extra love, your desire to help wherever you can, and your fierce loyalty.
And James, your unconditional love, faith and adoration, your giving nature, your sweetness, your purity, the way you make me feel like I'm the most important person in your world, and your never-ending optimism and joy.
And to you both -- the way you love one another, the way you take care of each other, the way you bring so much joy to those around you -- nothing makes me happier.
You make me grateful.
For your beautiful spirits.
Your ability to forgive without expecting anything in return.
Your very presence makes my life worth living.
I have no words to describe how much I love you, how blessed I feel to have you in my life.
You are my world.
You are my joy.
You make everything OK.
You make everything significant.
You are mine, and I am yours.
And that, my loves, is the best gift this woman could ever receive.
On this Mother's Day, I promise to be better.
I promise to be more patient.
I promise to be more kind.
I promise to be a better teacher.
I promise to stop yelling.
I promise to keep you safe.
I promise to devote my life to helping you become the good woman and man you will be.
Because you are my reason for everything.
Oh how I love being your mother.