They teach; they mother. They do it every day, without fail. They take our children, making them their own for the day.
I hope she remembers that her mom didn't mind rolling her pants up and taking her in the water. Ever. Her mom helped her lead her inherently independent life.
I keep coming back to these tiny feet that belong to a girl who is going through the “terrible twos.”
“I hope by the time I’m your age I have found my confidence.”
We watch for the change, but it still sneaks up on us.
Sometimes, we just need to let things fall as they will and simply let it be.
Each day, I write my kindergartener a simple, short note and put it in his lunch box.
In this past year, I’ve come to see hardship in the same way I’ve seen snow. We fall, struggle, mix with the earthiest parts of ourselves, and melt into puddles of who we are or who we once were.
A poem by Kara Lawler.
This (not my to-do list) is all that matters, I thought, on this beautiful morning.
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