Will my instinct as a mother always be to prepare for death of my children?

And at every meal — not just dinner — we all sat down at the table and ate. When we got home, my husband said, “Maybe we should be doing that.”

At that moment, a special friendship based on Neurotic Mommy Brain (NMB) was formed. Since that time, my friend and I have talked each other down off countless ledges.

I heard her utter, in hushed, respectful tones a word dreaded by all crisis-averse Minnesotans: tornado.

If you don’t attach that whole damsel-in-distress meaning to the wands and tiaras or make the footballs and trucks symbols of rough-and-tumble behavior, then you are giving your children permission to be whatever quality the moment calls forth.

I picture the moment all the time. I will open the door and look down; my foster child will be standing in front of me. I will kneel down to make eye contact, and I’ll smile to reassure.

Be kind to yourself—a lofty promise to ask of someone who isn't even old enough to tie her own shoes. I knew that, of course, but seeing her slap herself in disappointment like that made me ache.

Perseverance, confidence, compassion and respect are things that I value highly and that I am working every second of every day to instill in my children and I love that this movie helped demonstrate exactly the kind of people I want my children to be.

A fresh wave of mama guilt breaks over the back of my mind. Her teacher's instructions must appear to directly contradict my daily litany of warnings. Be careful. Hold my hand. Hold the railing. Hold on a minute. Slow down. Get down from there. Look both ways. Look out.

But kindness ALWAYS, always moves me to tears.