"I had managed to keep my composure in the grocery store, and even when I was putting away my cart back to get my quarter back. But as I drove home, the tears came. I began the ugly cry."
"Tears-pouring-down-my-face, couldn't-talk-couldn't-breathe kind of laughing. Screaming laughing. So hard that I was sobbing because I couldn't get it together."
Please, stop saving your child. Saving them from making a mistake. Saving them from every tough situation with a friend or peer. Saving them from consequences.
Yeah, yeah, we know. Sleepless nights, whether they’re two months old or twenty-one, and whatnot. But it’s not just the snotty noses wiped on your shirt or the mounds of laundry that multiply prior to folding.
I can understand that young children won’t remember things like the fully-balanced meals every night or what grade they got in their school subjects, but they will remember Oreos and snuggles.
I was already so in love with this healthy, unborn baby girl kicking inside my belly, but I felt like I was mourning the future loss of my season as a mama of one.
