The Other Side of The Mirror.

My first visit to the clinic was in 2008.  I went hopeful.  Hopeful that the research and testings and interviews with my sweet baby boy and his birth momma would prove what we desperately believed to be true- that he should not be returned to her custody.

I spent that day in the waiting area- feeling curious, and helpless, and a little insecure as he spent the day away from me.  I had been his mommy for two years at that point, and it was awkward letting him go with her. I felt the need to protect him but could only wait, apart from him.  I was glad to take his hand and come home.  The affect of spending the hours with her was obvious and immediate.  The investment was worth it.  The studies supported attachment concerns and eventually, with the testimony of the Dr. was instrumental in the termination of birth parental rights.  The rest, as they say is history. 

I've shared some intimate stories about our life- life of parenting a child who "had a difficult beginning."  We've spent the last 4+ years looking for tools to keep in our parenting special needs kids toolbox.  I wish I could say love was enough to make it easy.  It ain't easy.  Love makes it worth it.  We are still in search of the easy but at this point we will settle for easier. 

So Wednesday night, we headed back to Charlottesville to spend Thursday at the clinic.  Still hopeful.  Hopeful that the same expertise, years of training and research will help us to better parent our child.  To get us to a place where we aren't exhausted just thinking about a new day.   Still hopeful for healing.  This time, the focus was on us, the adoptive parents.  I was invited into the mysterious  playroom with the one way mirrors, the room that  kept me wondering for the last few years.

(what's better than a late night swim & midnight snack at a hotel without your brothers, you ask?)

The morning started with 1.5 hours of Rex and I interviewing together, then we spent the next couple of hours taking turns "playing" with our son in the playroom.  Coming and going, and each time we'd leave him we joined the Dr. on the other side of the mirror and watched him.  The other 6 hours or so was spent interviewing individually with the best in the field.  All 8 hours videotaped- yuck.  (We asked if they could make us skinny, but unfortunately, they aren't that good.)  In the next few months we'll spend hours working with Jennifer to view, study and learn from the tapes.   We expect to find those missing puzzle pieces, to learn how to read his (mis)cues so we can meet his real needs. 

Can I just keep it real?  The day was grueling.
The questions were intense.  Questions like

What is it like to parent him? What was your childhood like?  Give me a specific example of that? How does it feel when? What made you decide to adopt? What do you want for your son's future?How do you discipline? How has parenting E. affected your marriage? How do you handle it all?

I was able to speak of my faith,  obedience to and our foundation on Christ.  How lots of prayer keeps us going, and when extremely necessary we throw in long hot baths and chocolate.

I'm sure it sounds strange, unless you have adopted or fostered a neglected or abused child. We would have laughed and thought it was craziness too, before we started living the craziness. 

Just because it ain't pretty, doesn't mean it isn't worth it. 
Just because it's more difficult than we ever expected, doesn't mean we have regrets!

Total honesty is painful to face straight on.  Many of the questions brought tears and raw emotions that couldn't be hidden.

But one question they asked- it was easy and joyful to answer. 

"Has he captured your heart?"

"Absolutely! "

(I know this is a repeat picture, but I just love it.  It speaks volumes and keeps me focused on the joys of being his momma!)

My sweet friend Lora, who in difficult times reminds her friends to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

That's what we are going to do.

And I'll keep sharing what we are learning about the realities of adoption one step at a time, and praying that God will take our normal chaotic craziness and use it to encourage somebody else in theirs.

Five Minute Friday- Forgetting

check out all the details here: http://thegypsymama.com/

Go

There aren't too many things that I get better at as I age, but this one, I've got it in the bag!
I forget so much these days.  I walk into Kroger, and forget what I am there for.  I get my kids in the van, but forget their backpacks.  I pack for vacation, and forget my husbands toiletries.  I go to the bank, and forget to take the checks. 

In the last week, I've forgotten to
register my son for driver's ed again,
where I put important papers for Isaiah's IEP,
the directions to the Dr's office,
to mail bills that I finally remembered to put stamps on
- get the picture. 
I thought so - I could go on forever. 

In all my forgetting, there is often frustration.  But there is a forgetting that I am thankful for.  The forgetting of my sins.  Yes- all I have to do is ask!  They are forgotten, as far from the East to the West.  That is the most wonderful thing ever; that God forgets my sins, because His son Jesus died for me. 

I hope that I can forget the naughtiness and frustrations of my own kids, and just love them anyway. 
To forget their bad choices from one day to the next and start fresh each day with them. 

Why is it so difficult to forget how the words they use to hurt my feelings 8 months ago, and so easy to forget to stop and listen a little more intently to the words that seem to never end from spewing from their mouths today?
 
Why is it difficult to forget my husband's imperfections, and not for me to forget to tell him again how much I love him?

I think I'll go tell him right now.
That is, if I can remember once I get into the other room. 

STOP!

Happy forgetting remembering? 

Does He Know?

he's been really angry the last few weeks.  it builds until eruption.  i get my feelings hurt. you can't talk to me that way, i tell him.  he cries.  i cry.  i pick him up and rock him.  i tell him i'm sorry.  i apologize for things i did not do.  i apologize for things i cannot control.  i remind him how when he was a baby and i would sit by his crib and pray and cry- how he would ask if i was crying, and then ask me why.  i would tell him because i was scared that i wouldn't get to be his forever mommy.  i whisper that i'm sorry i get mad.  i whisper that i'm sorry he is so mad.  i whisper that i love him.   i always will love him.  i whisper we will get through this together, as i scream out to God, silently scream for God to help me.  i need His grace.  i need His strength. i got what i prayed for, and i fear i can't be all my son needs me to be. we rock.  we hug.  we cry together, again.  the light is barely creeping in through the cracked door.  i look down and see tears hanging from those gorgeous long eyelashes.  i kiss his cheeks.  he sighs a deep, sleeping sigh.  i enjoy the quietness of cuddly my son. 

does my son know

that every time he says "i want another mommy" it knocks the breath out of me
that when i leave him crying, i usually cry too
that i would give anything to take away the pain of his memories
that i feel like a failure when i yell at him
that i am here, to walk with him through his fears
that his arguing with me makes me crazy
that i pray for his mommy t.
that his fear of me going away is unfounded
that the rages will not scare me off
that my heart hurts when he tells me i'm mean
that i pray over him when he's sleeping
that i know the first 5 minutes he is awake, what kind of day we're going to have
that i hate myself when i get hooked by him and react out of anger
that the memories don't have to haunt him forever
that Jesus died for him- all of him; his sins, his fears, his failures, his disappointments, his hopes.
that even when i want to have a pity party and feel sorry for myself, for how he treats me, that i will keep loving him, no matter what.
that i am blessed to be his mommy, his mean mommy, his forever mommy.

en·dur·ance   
–noun

1. the fact or power of enduring or bearing pain, hardships, etc.
2. the ability or strength to continue or last, especially despite fatigue, stress, or other adverse conditions; stamina:
(Dictionary.com)



1000 Gifts #376

This week, I am especially thankful for endurance- God's gift to me, so that I can continue through the trials of uncharted mothering that He has ordered for me, these trials that remind me I am nothing without Him, my strength is through Him, and He is my Hope!

What 'ya thankful for? 

Five Minute Friday- When Seasons Change

I get excited when the seasons change.  I'm not a fan of the stale and stagnant.  I'm easily bored with same-ole, same-old.  Ask my hubby, he is never really sure where the furniture might be when he gets home from work.  I like all the seasons, each has it's own purpose and special offering, but I do have a favorite- it's Spring.  I love the smell of fresh cut grass, mornings that don't require jackets and getting my fingers deep in the earth, amid the worms and rock to plant pretty flowers.

Everybody gets to enjoy their favorite for a while, When Seasons Change.   

But just because the season changes- not everything changes with it.

I love this picture- it was taken right outside my front door.  The flowers- well they popped up this week.  They weren't supposed to. They're annuals, I planted them last year and they were supposed to die, but here they are.  If you look, you'll see they're smack in the middle of a mess.  The old mulch, grass and leaves that have been pruned.  The same spot where weed killer was sprayed in abundance, to prepare for new planting.  They look happy,  and fresh, but they're still sitting in the middle of a mess.

That's how it is for me in my life.  God brings new seasons, working it's way up through the mess of the today, bringing happy, fresh and new.  As a wife and mom, I need fresh and new.  I get tired, and frustrated and when I think I'm done, I can't stand one more snowfall or rain storm, when I desperately need warmth and sunshine, seasons change.  My babies start school, my teenager becomes a man.  My husband looks at me like he did 25 years ago.  Fresh and New have found a way into my stale winter, it's spring in my soul and fresh life is breathed into me by my Father Daddy. 

I get fresh and new (start overs) without having to give up what I already have,  When Seasons Change.

OT- Today was a Good Day!

Having a child with a diagnosed sensory disorder means we get to go to Occupational Therapy every week.  Some days little man doesn't want to go.  Can we all say Control. 

I usually don't mind the weekly commitment because I get to chat with Miss Robin.  She is an awesome woman.  I am amazed by her ability to get Isaiah to do what she needs him to do.  She motivates, encourages, re-trains and does it under the cover of having fun.  And, while all this is happening, he is learning to manage his disorder.  Because I can see progress, some weeks when I'm especially overwhelmed I wonder if the weekly sessions continue to makes a difference. 

But after missing a few weeks for vacations and business meetings, I was painfully aware that it does in fact help my little man in multiple ways.  His teachers and others who are around him a lot, also become aware he needs his OT. 

Today was an especially good day.  You can't hear it, but the giggles coming from the swing/tent made this mommy's heart smile.

We are about 6  months into the 1 year treatment plan and I am still learning tricks to make his life easier to manage.  And, the school has already begun testings and observations to ensure that his sensory needs are met as he starts Kindergarten next year.  You know how I LOVE those IEP meetings.

I really wish I could just take Miss Robin with me everywhere I go, but she is a little busy with her own 5 kids---kids who are amazing like their momma. 

For more information on Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) check out http://www.sensory-processing-disorder.com/sensory-processing-disorders.html

Thanks Miss Robin for making a difference in our lives.  We love ya!

Kindergarten PTA Programs are......

If you've ever been to one, I'm sure you have your own answer to fill in the blank. 

My Kindergartner's debut last night was perfect! 

He did not wave (as requested by the teacher) and he warned us for two days that we had better not wave at him.  He did remember his lines, including some we didn't know he even had.  He stood still and sang beautifully.  Of course, he's mine. 

But the rest of the hour, well in all honesty was a tiny bit painful. 
Does that make me a bad mom, to say out loud what you've all thought? 

The songs were cute.
The motions were fun.
The kids were adorable.

The transitions, none of the above. 

I did try to keep in mind they were just 5 & 6 and some, including my own were performing during a time they would normally be headed to bed.

Isaiah just couldn't take it. 

For whatever reason, Elijah decided he needed to tuck his shirt in somewhere between the last two songs. 

here's a peek into our not enough words to do it justice evening. 

Enjoy!

Does Love See Ugly, or Just See Past It?

I left work this afternoon, the downtown metropolis of Roanoke, VA.  There were two people standing on the sidewalk- fully embraced and kissing.  I noticed immediately all their worldly possessions in a shopping cart next to them. Heads greatly in need of shampooing, bodies showering.  Neither was attractive to look at.  I'll admit, I was a bit repulsed at first.  EEEEWWWW! That's when the title question popped into my mind.  

I know how shallow this makes me sound, so as I was mulling over my horrid thoughts, I heard it.  The still small voice of God whispering to me.  "They are looking past the ugly.  That's what I do for you everyday.  Lest you forget, you aren't too lovely to look at either.  I look past you and see my Son!  I don't see your ugly, and you shouldn't see ugly either.  Look past it"

I guess that is what I am attempting to do when I seek things to be thankful for.  Most days, my life is full of ugly.  Tantrums and tears, people needing more of me that I have to give.  My heart breaking off in pieces like a puzzle.  Looking in the mirror and being repulsed by what stares back at me. The news of the day.

And, I wonder why?  Why does God continue to bring people into our lives who seem to be doomed to live smack-dab in the middle of ugly. 

I can't get caught up in the ugly- I have to look past it.  It's easier said than done, isn't it?  But that is what God does for us, and we are called to be God-followers. The ugly is still there, but we don't see it first, we can see past it, and that's where we continue to find reasons to be thankful. 

1000 Gifts #358-375

• watching Dakota eat her first HOT Krispy Kreme Donut
• hearing I luv you, whispered in a 5 yr old sleepiness in the night
• Dakota's laugh, it's infectious
• tan lines on beautiful brown skin
• a pinkie promise to wave at the window
• Pre-School graduation
• Isaiah whispering to his monkey as he fell asleep... "I had a good day today, graduation was fun"
• opportunity's to encourage people new in my life
• laughter- silly, goofy, no specific reason laughter
• cup holders in the van
• manicured fingers in the dirt, preparing for pretty flowers
• trusting in God's sovereignty
• a catch-up lunch with Amy
• big boy accomplishments taught by a patient big brother-learning to tie his own shoes
• Mommy's day girl talk with two women I cherish
• the potential of loving another son, and God's timing and wisdom that we aren't
• trust of my teenage son in me, to be honest about his thoughts
• Kindergarten lines remembered, nervous and all

What 'ya thankful for?

A Weekend To Remember

Whirl Wind---yep, that sums it  up. It was one of those that swept through way too fast, and involved a lot of  memory making, too good to miss stuff.  It was just a little faster than this tired momma would like.  
It started Friday night with Isaiah's Preschool Graduation.  After his trying to convince Rex he didn't want to go, a new haircut and a quick pizza, it turned out to be a pretty special night. The Looking Ahead video was full of laughs, when asked "What do you want to be when you grow up? one little boy stammered and hesitated, and finally replied, "a boy" and then there was the little girl's response, and I quote.... "I want to be a mommy.... but I don't want any kids."  I can relate :)

But my favorite quotes, from my own Isaiah--- on What do you want to be when you grow up? he replied,
" A hunter like Shayne, he's tall.  Shayne has a girlfriend"- this is where Miss Keri decided to cut filming for the protection of all. 
When asked, What are you looking forward to about Kindergarten?  He responded - "my brother"- he'll be going to school with Elijah.

The poor child was so sleepy during the songs, we thought a couple of times we might loose him- he was swaying, and rocking, and at one point, just bent over and hung out for a couple of minutes.  He managed to stay awake, and get his diploma and a few pictures, before celebrating with dinner for Mommy & Daddy at Famous Anthony's.  The kids were unusually relaxed, so we lingered and closed them down before heading  home.  Saturday morning actually brought sleeping in, sorta kind of.  I fixed the kids a big breakfast, eggs, sausage, gravy & biscuits.  I put dinner in the crock-pot, to make it easy for Rex later.  I cleaned and puttered, until Shayne decided he wanted a haircut.  We had to compete with the Prom Up-do's, but finally accomplished with a few minutes to spare.  I dumped the kids at home, and headed to the Olive Garden. 

A late Mother's Day dinner- with Mom and Nae.  Girls Only.  We indulged, big-time including Bruschetta to start us off, and an assortment of desserts to finish the meal.  We talked, for a couple of hours driving our waitress a bit crazy.  And we enjoyed live entertainment which was actually watching the Prom dates coming and going.  I admit I was a bit jealous of the young pretty things, and a reason to get all dawled up.  Maybe we should celebrate our 25th Anniversary with an adult Prom- fancy attire required by all. 

We were having so much fun together, we attempted to taking in a movie, but since we missed the early show by 5 minutes, and we are all over 40, we opted to skip the 10:10pm showing.  Instead, I detoured for a quick shopping trip and an all-out search for a "husband" pillow, without success before I headed home and followed through with a promise to watch home movies with the kids, and the Nances'. 

Late to bed, early to rise.  Sunday morning we got the troops ready for church and out the door on-time just a tad late.  Since we couldn't do dinner for Teri's birthday Friday, a little graduation pre-empted the party plans, we headed to Red Lobster for Sunday lunch.  My boys were tired, and loud, and grumpy, and down right obnoxious at times.  None the less, we had some really good food, and cake before heading back home.

I did about an hour of gardening emptying a little space of grass dumpings from the year prior, and some trash, and rock and prepared a little spot for a flower bed in the back yard, next to the mud pit.  It was especially fun dragging the trash can on wheels through the puddles. 

Then it was time for Awana's for Elijah, take Dakota home, make a quick trip to Wal-Mart and enjoy a fantastic heart to heart with Shayne.  We enjoyed the gorgeous view of the mountain we once called home, before retrieving my middle son heading back home.

Did I say I was tired.

I'm tired.

Back out to my future flower bed, to lay the landscape paper, weed blanket, or whatever that stuff is called before the darkness took over. 

Since I was now hungry again and longing for some comfort food, I grabbed a bowl of tomato soup and headed for my really big bathtub.  I indulged in a hot bath and TV while eating my soup.  Yes people, I had my 9:15pm dinner in the bath tub.  (Try it, you'll like it.)

Throw in some rain storms and way too many bummers to count, and I'd say we had a weekend to remember.


And here I sit feeling a little like Cinderella, ha- trying to capture memories before the strike of midnight. 

WHEW! Goodnight people.

Five Minute Friday- Deep Breath- Friendship

My sister tells me all the time to remember to breath.  My friend helps me do that.  When I think of the moments in my life, that cause me to deep breath- they all include her. 

Dumb moments- like silly cheers for the gym teacher and high school drama.  

Moments like first days of school in a new state, new town, new everything.  Moments like graduation, and marriage.  The arrival of foster children with lice, and their departure 9 months later.  The birth of her daughter, my son, her son.  The loss of her unborn baby, and years of praying for mine.  The arrival of two brown boys, unexpected and full of need.  Surgeries, lots of surgeries.  Cancer.  Marital trials, and Marital bliss. 

Yes, even deep breath through Bob-a -Loooo at the worst possible time.

Moments like hearing her sing, just before I speak to women about Jesus.  Moments like standing in the funeral home, saying goodbye to a classmate, who died too soon.  Riding to Alabama to bury a friend, and love on his wife.  Moments that are too good- like when the judge made our boys ours forever, or just laying on the beach talking about teenagers; and moments that are too difficult to put into words.

Deep breath- she's always breathing with me.  And I do know and appreciate what a precious gift that is from God.  She's been there for more than 30+ years, and I expect she'll be there for 30+ more.  She better be, I have too much invested.  We'll keep deep breathing as our teenagers give us gray hair, get married and have their own babies.

Yep, we've breathed through some stuff together, and with each deep breath, the bond of our friendship tightened, and strengthened; and in a weird way made us look alike.

Today's her birthday- she'll deep breath to blow out all those candles (she's older than me for a few months) and I'll deep breath in the gift I've been given - the gift of friendship.  I love you Teri!

Linking back to:

where we all throw caution (editing, revising, and worrying) to the winds and just write. Without wondering if it’s just right or not. For five minutes flat.

A Pressure Cooker and Worms!

wake 'em up-  check
get 'em dressed - check
teeth brushed- check
backpack- uh oh.  I could feel the knot in my stomach tighten as I searched for the backpack with no luck.  I knew it was most likely in the other car; but I am an eternal optimist.  I know how he feels about the backpack.  A quick call to hubby and the dreaded was confirmed- backpack is 25 minutes away; will need a back-up back pack today. 

I cringed, said a quick prayer and gritted my teeth as I told him.

KABOOM!  the frustration was more than he could handle, so it began.

Now, I know it isn't really about the back pack.  I knew this explosion was coming weeks ago- before we left for vacation.  I knew it was coming when I sent him home to VA and I got on a plane for Denver.  I knew it was coming when I woke him up Friday morning, and I could see the relief on his face as he literally jumped from the top bunk onto me, and began to cry- confessing he was afraid I wouldn't come back.  I knew it was coming, because it usually does.

KABOOM!

The two of us standing in the kitchen - a sight  to behold.  He starts screaming, I scream back, escalating with him.  I was okay with the escalation because it does bring relief for him, until he started swinging.  The back-up back pack is now a weapon aimed for my head.  I stop the assault, we are still screaming.  I make eye contact with my son.  The same brown eyes that disappear behind perfectly round cheeks when he smiles are now filled with anger.  Anger you can see.  It is directed at me. I feel myself exploding with him- we continue to scream but now he is swinging with his fists.  I grab his hands. I hear myself tell him I am here, I am taking care of you , I am loving you  and I am not the one you should be angry with.

There is no reasoning with him when he is in this state.

Am I really standing in my kitchen screaming at my son.  Yes, and I am struggling inside. This is not how I pictured motherhood-this is not how I want to communicate with my son.  Am I failing?   This motherhood is different yet somehow becoming familiar.  I grieve the difference in an instance; but no time to get stuck here.  I ask him to scream with me.  Scream whatever he wants, it's okay but it is not okay to ever hit me.  He agrees to never do it again.

I pick my son up and hug him, hold him close.  Tightly.  He begins telling me "I love you Mommy"  I assure him how much I love him.  I know it probably won't be our last escalation dance. 

Of course, these melt-downs have a domino effect, so the time required to get him to a safe emotional place, was making us late for school.  I tell him to expect this, the tears start again.  Aye-Aye Aye.   During this entire scene, my baby son, my wild man has become peace-maker, and is circling us, patting legs or shoulders or whatever he can reach; while spilling the yogurt smoothies I got them for breakfast.  Crazy Mommy, should have stuck with the Go-Gurt.  My bright idea left a trail of strawberry-banana liquid rt all over the kitchen, couch and his face. 

15 minutes pass, I'm still holding my son and finally I can feel the frustration and anger leave his body. He is now able to return the hugs and he asks if we can go now.  With the pressure relieved, the conversations in the van turn to typical little boy things. 

Worms.

Yes, apparently red-headed gray bodied worms, with real blood when cut in half were abundant as they dug in the yard last night.  They "operated" on them with mulch,  washed the blood away and made them better- cause according to them, and I quote "we're experts cause we love the worms"

I guess that makes me expert at parenting my boys, cause I love them.  





Triple Blessed!

Mother's Day- for 8 years (well, lots longer than 8) I dreamed of being a mom.  I was so focused on becoming a momma, I probably missed out on a lot of time just hanging with my own momma.  Or, all my mommas.  Divorce causes you to loose many things, but in my life, divorce brought me another momma- Barbara. So, I have my momma momma (Jane) my in-law momma (Iris) and my step-momma (Barbara).  I love them all and am blessed that I get to love triple mommas.  And then there's my sister momma, my best friend momma, my niece mommas- oh, this could go on forever.  Let's just say that I truly appreciate Mother's Day, and all it brings.  And, I am always mindful of those who want want to be a mommy, but for whatever health reasons, they cannot.  I know and remember the pain of that desperation and I pray for their hurt. For years, I dreaded Mother's Day because it was a day that brought pain and disappointment for me.  I do not take for granted thee gift God gave me, and I know how blessed I am that I get to be a momma, and love many!

Momma Niece (Katie) Momma Sister (Nae), Kari and Audrey

Baby Owen

Dakota, Shayne's girlfriend and my boys 

Momma Momma... Jane & me

Momma Best Friend Teri

Momma Iris, Momma Ona & Me

Momma Barbara is in Tennessee- far from me in miles, but not in my thoughts.

So, this Monday indulge me as I make up for missing last week's list and continue to count the many ways I'm thankful...

somewhere over Denver, CO

1000 Gifts #332-357

• watching my kids make friends on the beach
• Elijah telling a tweener about Jesus, even when she told him Jesus wasn't real, he said "uh-huh, yes He is"
• family vacations
• transmission fluid and sealant- preventing vehicular breakdown on vacation
• sand covered toes
• life-long friends
• shell digging in the ocean, with Teri & Jay, using only our toes.  (yes, this adventure was so good Teri got her hair wet) 
• flight safety to and from Denver
• a look at the clouds, from above them- I just love that and wonder if that's what God sees when He looks down on us
• my sister stepping in for me while I'm gone, literally- she wore my slippers
• opportunity to love new people (Dakota)
• Owen snuggles
• my preschoolers Mother's Day perception of me-  50 lbs, 1 foot tall, favorite game is Hide & Seek, and so on
• fun dinner with Lane & Cheryl- and their patience with our loud rowdy boys
• sleeping in my own bed after two full weeks away from home
• a second monitor at work
• celebrating Iris' 89th Birthday
• love notes from my boys
• witnessing the baptism of about 20 kids we've watch grow up before our eyes- how precious to see their faith grow
• purple and pink and white petunias on my front porch
• clean bathrooms for emergency stops
• my new purse-size thankful journal- with sunflowers and roosters on the cover
• unexpected date with my hubby on Mother's Day

What 'ya thankful for?

Five Minute Friday- Motherhood Should Come With

Motherhood should come with EXTRA's.  First, it should automatically give us EXTRA TIME so we can rock longer, play harder, sing louder and get all that laundry caught up. It should come with EXTRA MEMORY cells, so we don't forget the special once in a life-time moments like their first cry, their first steps, their first fall, the memories that seem to fade and be a little harder to recall as time marches on.  Or, the  memory to find things so precious like their first love note they give us that says "I luv you" or even my kids.    It should also come with EXTRA ARMS.  That way we can carry our babies or hold our kids hands, and still do all the mom stuff that often has me choosing between accomplishing a mom task or simply holding, hugging or cuddling with my kids.   Motherhood seems to take our hearts and break them, sometimes smash them to pieces, and in those times we need EXTRA KLEENEX and MASCARA to wipe up the snot and pretty up our faces.  Motherhood should come with EXTRA EYES, so we can see all the things we miss out on, like the imaginations at work when our kids are at play, or continually watching them sleep.  Isn't that just the greatest?  Motherhood should come with DO-OVERS, for all the times I mess up, make the wrong choice, or say the wrong thing.

This I know, Motherhood does come with more joy than I could ever have imagined, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.  

Linking back to...... 

where we all throw caution (editing, revising, and worrying) to the winds and just write. Without wondering if it’s just right or not. For five minutes flat. 

Happy Friday Ya'll!