When is enough, enough?

So, I was determined I would never join the world of blogging.  It was crazy, I mean, no one would want to hear my rantings, anyway.  If I've learned anything in my years it's never to start a sentence with, "I will never..."  That's a sure way to find yourself doing something. 

I decided on the name, "Grace for the moment" because that's the way I'm living right now: moment by moment, only by God's Grace.  I'm living in the crazy beautiful days of little ones underfoot and all around.  I love it, but it's hard in the day to day.  I've been told, "The days are long, but the years are short."  I find this especially true today as my oldest turns seven.  Can it really be?  How did those years go so quickly?  Have I told him the important things he needs to hear?  Does he know how much I adore him?  Have I encouraged him in the important heart issues?  Time is slipping away so quickly. 

I had a mild breakdown last night preparing for his birthday today.  It's like I wanted to pour 7 years of love into one day, this day.  I wanted him to feel special...I wanted to give him the world.  In reality, it turned out to be one lone balloon and 4 little gifts.  I wanted to be up before him (he's my early riser) and have his favorite french toast waiting for him.  In reality, he got up before me and made his own toast, as well as some for his sister.  I wanted to take him swimming and to the park and out to eat and anything else he wanted on this birthday.  In reality, we went swimming and brought pizza home for lunch and I was too spent to go do anything else.  I wanted to make him a spectacular dessert that would make him feel like the most favored son on the planet.  In reality, we had root beer floats.  But, do you know what?  That little boy had a GREAT day.  He loved his 4 little gifts.  He was over the moon excited that there was a balloon (even just one) waiting for him when he got up this morning.  He had a great time swimming!  But the best part of the day was when he said, "I really like my presents, but my favorite thing is that you and Dad love me."  O.k. talk about tears. 

You see, my son doesn't have the best mom.  He doesn't have Supermom.  He has me.  I am flawed and I am physically unable to do as much as I would like.  I am easily exhausted and that is exaggerated by having a baby who still gets up at least a time or two every single night.  But I do my best and he sees that.  He saw that I pushed past what I'm normally capable of and gave him my all.  He saw that even though those gifts we gave him were small, they were thought out and things we believed he would love.  And he did. And that tells me, in my heart, that it is enough.  When will we ever learn, in our heart of hearts, that the most important things we give our children are not things?