Fifteen years (yikes!) into
motherhood, and I
am growing in this role. I
no longer quiver when faced with a bleeding (or vomiting) child. I
no longer tremble when challenged by hungry, filthy, bored , warring boys that seem to gain monstrous strength with each and every passing second. No, I have grown in mothering just as my boys flourish with each passing milestone, every grown inch, each hard won, exhausting, monumental, accomplishment. I
stand in wide mouthed awe, amazed that, in spite of myself, their growth leaves me behind, small; but oh, so very much beloved! And someday, rather soon, I suppose, they will tower over me: souvenir of time's passage; my own growth.
2 comments:
Good for you on the not quivering at vomit thing. I told Ryan that I would only marry him if he agreed to clean up any vomit. He agreed. I even wanted it worked into our vows somehow. I think he thinks I was joking. I wasn't!
um.....they ALREADY tower over you....Andrew even towers over ME... ;)
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