My son has a scar in the middle of his forehead. It was the first time I felt one of my flaws as a mother was on public display.

I cherish those precious times where he was nestled into my chest at the end of a long day, but I don’t spend my time yearning for those moments.

“Hold my hand,” the request comes at 4 a.m., an hour before I have to wake up for work.

If she were someone you knew, Cherish would be that friend from high school who was great in small doses. But an afternoon out together? Something to avoid.

 Sometimes, when mommas talk about their older kids pulling away from them, I feel something akin to envy.

I have always loved nap time.

Why does my kid have to be the one doing the biting? This would be so much easier if he was the one getting bitten.

But then our surprise blessing arrived, forever altering the tapestry of our lives — and changing everything I thought I knew about motherhood.

I had a vision of what my daughter’s transition to nursery school would be like, and it was not this.

Showering isn't exactly the sanctuary it used to be, but for now I'm happy to take refuge in this moment of motherhood.