Believing in my capabilities as a young mother when I was only a little older than you are now was part survival instinct, part defense mechanism.

You’re a beautiful, strong, loving, capable woman whose baby/toddler/child/teen is SO lucky to have you as a mama.

Today, my children are with their father, instead of me. They are with him in the new home that he has created for himself, and them, separate from me.

This got her going on how fun “dads” are. “Dads,” for example, “are adventurous and like to do things like jump off cliffs.”