I do believe it is the most difficult job in the world.
I never imagined how hard it could be, or stressful, or crazy, or fabulous.
I look at my two imperfect boys and am thankful that I get to have them for a while.
Because I know that someday they will have their own lives.
With their own families.
I hope that what we have taught them will stay with them as they grow up.
Like how to treat their wives.
Or how to always kiss your babies--even when they're big.
I hope they remember that I always told them they were brilliant people.
Incredible people.
And that no one is better than them.
And vice-versa.
I want for them a life without fear.
A life full of discovery.
These boys are wild and rambunctious, moody and loud.
And sweet, considerate, loving and kind.
They are more than a crazy afternoon.
Or a passing judgment.
They are little humans, imperfections and all.
And I am their mother.
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