You are a miracle.
And I have to love you this fiercely: So that you can feel it even after you leave for school, or even while you are asleep, or even after your childhood becomes a memory.
You’ll forget all this when you grow up. But it’s okay.
Being a mother means having your heart broken.
And it means loving and losing and falling apart and coming back together.
And it’s the best there is. And also, sometimes, the worst.
Sometimes you won’t have anyone to talk to.
Sometimes you’ll wonder if you’ve forgotten who you are.
But you must remember this: What you’re doing matters.
And you have to be brave with your life so that others can be brave with theirs.
The truth is, being a woman is a gift. Tenderness is a gift. Intimacy is a gift. And nurturing the good in this world is a nothing short of a privilege.
That’s why I have to love you this way. So I can give what I have to you. So that you can carry it in your body and pass it on.
I have watched you sleep. I’ve kissed you a million times. And I know something that you don’t, yet:
You are writing the story of your only life every single minute of every day.And my greatest hope for you, sweet child, is that I can teach you how to write a good one.
These words… these words I often forget yet resonate so loudly in my soul.
Nurturing the good in the world is nothing short of a privilege. That my sweet children… they ARE writing the story of their lives every single minute of every day. And it is true… my greatest hope is that I can teach them to write a good one.
And Katie also linked to a post from MckMama…. I’m gonna miss this. And it really made me think about how quickly this life is going by. How quickly my babies are growing up. If I really stop to think… really think… about how sad it is that they’re growing so fast. Sure, I can say it in passing and kind of jokingly. Everyone says it “Kids grow up too fast.” But to really stop and think…. why can’t I really relish these moments no matter how chaotic. Love them. Love every manic moment of them because in 10 years… 20 years…. I’m really going to miss it.
I’ve made the comment numerous times about how much I really dislike my kids’ ages right now. How I feel like I’m fighting the Terrible 2’s with both my almost-2 year old and 4 year old. How my nights are filled with whining and fighting and tantrums and crying and heavy sighing and moaning and groaning and glancing at the clock.
Because I know… I know in the end I’m gonna miss it.