“Wheee! Turn circles, mommy!” My toddler son and I are swinging on a circle swing in the backyard. He’s sitting next to me, and the curls on the bottom of his neck are wet with sweat from the heat and humidity. With the exception of a slightly different jawline, it’s like looking at my oldest again. No way. It can’t be that I was swinging the soon-to-be college freshman sixteen years ago.

Today I saw a friend’s post on Facebook. She titled it “He’s got one foot out the door.” I’ll give her bragging rights when she gives me permission (she knows who she is🙂). It’s all true. I have literally seen my older son five times (just kidding) since he graduated. He went on a senior trip. He has a girlfriend. He wants to see friends before they all scatter. I ABSOLUTELY get it. I understand. I don’t take it personally. However, I have conflicting emotions.

That baby swinging with me today thinks I created the darn universe. “Mama” is the first word he says every morning. Tonight I covered him with a very special blanket. I told him I bought this blanket just for him before he was born. He said, “Tank you, mama.” And I could have been just as easily been tucking in my older son or my daughter. Time passes and I don’t even notice. And as I watched this baby hold onto me in the swing and follow me around all day completely depending on me, I realized that he won’t be two forever. Eventually, friends will be more fun than mom, a girl will win his heart, and he will move away to college, a job, or whatever else God has for him.

And that’s what it is… a gradual pulling away, an increased independence that just sneaks up on us unsuspecting mamas. One day the baby swing, the next, a car. One moment, sweet cuddles, the next, a quick hug and “I’ll be home by curfew.” They don’t really leave right away, do they? They put one foot out the door. Then the other.

I’ll be waiting to hear that door open and hear, “Hey, mom. I’m glad to be home.”

I’ll be glad, too, son. My door will always be open for you to walk right back in.

In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.

Robert Frost

I was thinking today about how life is like a river. It keeps going regardless of how one might feel about it. Just as I can’t stop the river, I also can’t stop the passing of time. It never fails that when I come here, I see a child’s beach ball or raft floating out from the beach to the tree line across the lake. The water is continuous and at times strong depending on the part of the river. There are sandbars where river goers stop to rest or just eat and enjoy the scenery. The sunsets are breathtaking on the tree-lined water.

My husband’s Papaw (W.L. Presley) took this land and worked it until it became the beautiful lake and campground that I first saw when I came “down here” from Terry, Mississippi. My first memories are seeing Papaw at the gate and finding out that he played basketball against my Grandpop. I don’t know if I’m just sentimental (I really am) or maybe my children getting older is starting to get to me. Today at the lake there were an influx of memories on the beach.

I can see that engaged couple dancing on the beach at midnight on New Years Eve. The young bride-to-be knows this will be her new home soon. I can almost hear the baby laughing and splashing as it was his first time to get in the water… eighteen years ago. Now there are two kids in the water trying to flip over their momma’s raft and she’s laughing at their effort. . The dad has joined them and they’re stopped at a sandbar trying to catch minnows with the leftover crumbs of Doritos the momma has packed. Squeals of excitement over falling off the inner tube are drowned out by the boat.

And, suddenly, I look around and realize that couple has been married over twenty years. One child is going to college and the other can wear her momma’s shoes. There is a new child, a toddler who blessed his parents later in life. And as I look at him, I see the baseball player with whom I fell in love, I see his older brother in the blonde curls on his head, his sister in the twinkle in his eyes as he splashes. And I realize that life does move on…. continuously. Just like the river. Whether I’m ready for it or not. But I know there are more wonderful memories to be made at the Outing.

Let the dorm room shopping commence. Honestly, I’m not emotionally cut out for this.😂

I’m not naming names, but someone I know with two teens and a toddler cried today. If the shoe fits, wear it. I just happen to fit perfectly in those shoes . Cinderella maybe? Nope. It’s just me. I’m owning it, and if the shoe fits you, please wear it loud and proud. You’re in good company. Well, maybe not “good” company, but I got you girl.😂 Let’s take a head count….number one son moving to college in August, teenage daughter in high school , and last, but not least, precocious toddler. Yes, I’m wearing said shoes.

This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I had a three year old and a newborn. Piece. Of. Cake. This parenting two different age groups ain’t for the weak. I’m a pretty stubborn broad, but it got to me today. What’s that? Yes, they’re good kids. Yes, I’m a teacher so I don’t have to get up and go to work every day right now. I sound whiny? Sorry, not sorry. My mantra is “I’m not complaining, I’m EXPLAINING.” I’m always encouraged when a friend tells me (usually privately) that my writing has encouraged them. Even if the subject is hard, it’s ALWAYS encouraging to know you are not alone in this journey of motherhood or life in general.

So back to my small little outburst. It was quick . I was at home. I was alone (well,little man was there). However, it happened, and guess what? It was earned. I love being off for the summer. I almost feel like I can handle the house, the kid’s needs, and so on. You know there’s a caveat, right? This mom thing is hard. It’s been a long time since I cried.

I took little man to the beach today. We had a blast, but he’s a busy boy and it’s tiring. We came home. He napped while I got cleaned up and then we went to Target. My sweet, precious toddler was THAT child. You know the one. He was fussing in the cart, trying to pull at the shelves, and he threw a fit while I was paying for everything. I felt exposed in a sense.

We got home and he sat on a big dump truck that’s really just for pushing. He pushed back with his feet and started going backwards down a hill on our driveway. I began to run in my flip-flops (guess where this is going). He was going faster and began to go out of my reach. I leaned forward to grab at his shirt and lost my balance. I caught myself (it probably looked funny) as he rolled safely into the grass. My heart was racing.

We went inside (I had to MAKE him) and I sat in a chair and suddenly big, fat tears stung my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop. Why now? What in the world am I crying about? As I gathered myself together, things became more clear. I was crying because I had held it together so long. The “scary” incident on the dump truck made me realize that I felt inadequate. I’m the mom. The buck stops here. “I couldn’t catch him,” I thought. “I’m supposed to be able to catch him… to catch ALL THREE of them.”

But I didn’t catch him. And I can’t always catch them. I can’t fix everything for my eldest when he’s away at college this fall. I can’t always prevent my beautiful only daughter from having her feelings hurt. I couldn’t even stop my precocious toddler on that toy today. That realization hurt. I realized that I don’t have control over everything… honestly, over anything. But I can love them. I can be the “soft landing ” when they hurt. I can pray. That’s the best safety net of all.

I love impatiens because I can’t kill them.😂 My toddler REALLY wanted to touch this dragonfly. Beauty is all around us. I believe that’s one way we can see God’s love.. especially when our lives are hectic. Flowers are not in a hurry to grow, so we must remember to be patient with ourselves.

Didn’t I JUST write the other day? Oh, well. Read it and weep.😂 Y’all better be glad I read my own writing because this was originally titled “Here We Ho Again”. Gasp! I thought this girl was a Christian. My phone’s autocorrect is very interesting at times. I’m appalled! Yeah… y’all know it’s funny. Hey, I also think it’s okay to seek therapy AND my kids (now just the baby) dressed up in “non-evil” costumes at Halloween. Somebody stage an intervention Just kidding. Humor is good and necessary, especially if we are forced to “adult.” I have to write, though. If it’s just for my own benefit, I have to do it.

I just keep learning “stuff” from my kiddos. Baby boy was lying next to me yesterday morning. He kept say, “I wuv you, Mommy.” I just felt completely overwhelmed. It was like watching water filling up a pitcher except that I felt this love filling up my heart. It’s weird because I always think I can’t love my children anymore than I do… but it just keeps growing and growing.

A picture of God’s love for me just came to the front of my mind as I was lying there with the baby. “If I feel this much love for my children, how can it be that God loves me this much?” It occurred to me that He feels this way about ME. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. He has given me a purpose. I am special to the Creator of the universe. I just couldn’t fathom in that moment that God could love me more than I love my children. And, what’s more, we ALL are special. Not one of us escapes his notice.

Not long ago, I wrote about some bad weather we had at a ballgame. I had so much anxiety about it (the weather WAS really bad). We took shelter in the concession stand (that didn’t help my feelings at ALL 😂). My daughter initially didn’t come in with me. When I couldn’t find her, I panicked. I was beside myself because it literally looked like a tornado was coming and I needed to know she was okay. She was with my husband, so she was fine. Although maybe I shouldn’t have overreacted, my motivation was out of my love for her.

When I think about my absolute love and devotion to keeping my three children safe, it occurs to me that God had to watch His only son die for something which He wasn’t guilty. I’ve often wondered if Mary held her precious baby boy and knew He would suffer… I can’t imagine. I would do whatever it took to prevent my three children from hurting. Why does God sometimes allow us to hurt?

I’ve been walking through a challenging time lately. It seems like as soon as life starts settling down something else comes along (or 100 things) that cause me stress, worry, and pain. How irritating (and sad and frustrating, right?) But as I was walking outside the other day, I looked at some flowers we have to attract butterflies. Lantana, I believe they are called. This lantana bush is HUGE. My husband cut it back to almost nothing a couple of years ago. I actually thought it was “done for”!

It occurred to me that the bush is actually so large it needs to be cut back AGAIN. His cutting it the first time seemed to actually encourage its growth. And that’s part of the plan, I truly believe. God loves us too much to allow us to just remain stagnant. We can either wither and die or we can bloom. Pray. Be with people that have your best interests at heart. Find something that you enjoy doing. But don’t give up. Don’t get discouraged. Grow. Whether it’s finding a new purpose in life, a new hobby, new friends… take one little step. That’s growth. You are loved by a creator that has a plan for you. . I know I am… a little boy reminds me every day.

Oh my, my, my. I’ll have to make this a quick one.

1. I’m a scaredy-cat, so if I write quickly I won’t change my mind.

2. I’m tired.

Edited: I was tired because I was writing at 2 am.

I feel like I’ve written a different version of this blog 1000 times. If you don’t like it, click it closed.🤦🏼‍♀️Sorry… I promise I don’t have a “tude”… just being me. I just have to write this for myself and I really believe someone else needs to read it. I might fall flat on my face or maybe I’m preaching to a crowd…OR maybe I’ll have a reaction like a comedian that gets a clap from one person because he/she feels sorry for the comedian. I don’t know. This is real and no Shakespeare or Emily what’s-her-name fancy jargon. I can do that another time.

I was lonelier than I’d ever been yesterday.

Did I make that clear? Pretty sure someone is feeling awkward right now. You can read or leave. Gosh. My Southern charm isn’t enough today. I don’t know how else to say it. Ever have some friends or close family over and it’s really loud and boisterous? Then they leave and it’s too quiet? Yeah, sometimes I feel like that. Don’t you? Or maybe you’re surrounded by people all the time and yet you still feel lonely. It happens to the strongest of us. I never intentionally leave out the “men folk”. Anyone can struggle with this issue.

Raise your hand if you’re single. No kids? Divorced? Widowed? Any moms? Any single moms? Married moms? Moms to teens? Moms to toddlers? Moms to teens and toddlers? Moms to a child with special needs? Stay at home moms? Working single woman? Working moms? If you’re human, you will experience loneliness at some point. Interestingly, I’ve experienced it both while physically being alone and also while surrounded by people, noise, and activity.

My eldest is about to go off to college and he’s been spending lots of time with friends. My daughter likes to either be with friends or go to her room and paint. My toddler is incessantly following me around (even to the bathroom). I ADORE the fact he’s my shadow.. I know I’ll miss it one day, but there’s something to be said for a little adult interaction. My husband and older son (the graduate) spend lots of time on baseball “stuff” and other guy things. We live “out”, so I can’t just walk down the road to a friend’s house.

So last night I allowed all these thoughts and feelings of loneliness get to me. “You’ll never have enough friends.” “You’re family is too busy for you.” “You’re going to feel this way forever.” I prayed a simple prayer. It wasn’t wordy or long. It wasn’t worthy of some devotional book. But it was sincere. I simply asked God to give me peace. And He did. Peace isn’t the absence of pain. It’s the assurance that we are not alone in our pain. If you are struggling right now with loneliness , please remember…..

God is there when:

Your teens would rather hang out with their friends and you sincerely miss them.

Your husband is asleep, but you would like to have an adult conversation (because you’ve talked to kids all day).

You’re doing the parenting thing alone as a single parent (or it’s mostly on you).

Your friends can “adult” but you couldn’t get a sitter.

You felt “left-out” by people.

People said unkind or untrue things about you.

You’re sitting at church and your family is at home.

The group of women standing there didn’t invite you to stand with them.

Your family lives far away.

You parent a child that has special needs and other parents don’t necessarily understand.

Your child/children are running from what you’ve taught to be right.

It’s TOO quiet in the house and you have too much time to overthink (this is my 2 am problem 😂).

But you aren’t alone.

God is ever present.

He is always there, especially when you feel most alone.

He said He would never leave or forsake us.

And he won’t. He is ever-present. Even when we feel alone. And He hears our simple prayers…even at 2 a.m.

It’s the first day of summer break, and I’m watching Frazier. I RARELY watch TV, so this is a totally selfish move on my part.😂

Before I write anything else, I’m very sorry for ending my title with a preposition. Let’s call it “writer’s liberties .” So now that’s out of the way. No, I’m not a nerd. I REALLY love the English language. I guess that’s one thing “I’m good for.”

I feel as if my writing has been flat lately. I don’t have a shortage of subjects about which to write, though. If you can internalize the feeling you get after coming home from vacation and looking at your laundry, unpaid bills, and getting back to “real life”, it’s a similar feeling. Or the feeling you have after planning for months for Christmas or a wedding and then it’s over so quickly. I’m just drained. My planner says “You Can’t Pour From an Empty Cup.” But I have….for months.

Last night, several inhabitants of my home (i.e. my family) commented that I forgot to get milk. They were absolutely correct. I have no excuse. I forgot. My family wasn’t being mean.They were stating a fact. However, this is out of ordinary for me. It’s even an item on my “favorites” list. I shop online by using grocery pickup. It’s literally the best thing “since sliced bread.”

It basically comes down to the fact that I ordered groceries during a very short break at work. This happened to also be the day before school got out for summer. I’m a teacher, so no explanation should be necessary…. but you know one is coming. I’ve said it before. The month of May for teachers is like working Black Friday in retail except that it lasts for a month. Combine that with having a family, and it almost feels impossible to get everything done. My May calendar looks like the pen in my hand exploded. Ordering milk wasn’t top priority.

I stood at the sink yesterday and looked at some flowers I bought for the baby’s teacher (she was on vacation so I’ll buy her more). It hit me that my needs and wants get pushed to the side. The loss of identity started to overwhelm me and I realized the juxtaposition of being so “needed” all the time, yet feeling overlooked at the same time. “What am I good for?” I thought. I don’t hear “thank you” or “good job.” I don’t have time to read or pick up piano again like I keep saying I will.

What am I good for? Let’s see.

I’m good for encouraging those talents that might have just been discovered (my daughter is an amazing painter).

I’m good for cheering from the stands (but not yelling at the umpires).

I’m good for praying for my family.

I’m good for being a good listener.

I’m good for a funny joke.

I’m good for being real.

I’m good for admitting my mistakes.

I’m good for keeping my family organized.

I’m good for not give up when that would be the easy thing to do.

I’ll bet you’re good at all these things and many more. Let’s try not to get lost in what we “think” others perceive us to be (moms, wives, breadwinners), and remember that we have so many qualities that make us who we are… individually. God made you, and that is good enough.

Go ahead and ponder why I’m not writing a blog tomorrow night AFTER graduation. Well, I don’t know. Sorry that sounds a little flat. I honestly don’t know how to feel. I already have a draft going on a blog to parents of juniors, but I can’t finish it until after tomorrow night. It’s sort of a user’s manual to prepare for the senior year. This particular piece of writing tonight is streaked with a little nostalgia and sprinkled with bits of grief. That’s how it is sometimes with life, so my writing follows suit. How can happiness and sadness intertwine so effortlessly?

The night before the test was positive, somehow I already knew.

The night before I had you, I found it hard to sleep.

The night before your first birthday, I cleaned and cleaned.

The night before your first t-ball game, I double-checked your bag.

The night before Christmas, I helped put fifty stickers on a motorized car from Santa to you.

The night before we had your sister, I was afraid of loving two babies the same… but I did and now I love three.

The night before kindergarten, I prayed you would like your school.

The night before your first date, I was nervous for you.

The night before you drove yourself to school, I prayed..HARD.

The night before 500 different dances and formals, I prayed… HARD (again).

The night before Senior Mass, I prayed yet again for you, but especially for your sweet sister.

The night before your high school graduation….

I’m at a loss.

I wish I had played more, prayed more, saw more ballgames…. just told you that you and your siblings are everything…

I’m having a tough time with the words.

The night before your graduation…

Is only a new beginning.

Son, pray. Read that Study Bible. It’s your guide. Treat the custodian like the CEO. Be kind. Everyone is fighting something hard. Be true… don’t conform. God made you special. Give yourself grace in the classroom and the baseball field. Mistakes will teach you exponentially more than success will. Study hard and don’t forget to let yourself have fun. Be a defensive driver. Buckle up. Be yourself.

Gosh, this sounds so boring.

Please come home often. Call me day or night if you need anything at all. Keep the Epipen on you and ask what’s in the food before you eat it. I miss you already.

Is this what it’s like the night before graduation?

I love you. See you in the morning.

When it comes to writing a blog, I’ve set a few rules for myself. First of all, I try not to write when I’m overly tired or don’t feel well. Also, I try not to write when I’m emotional. Well, you know what they say about rules. I’m tired AND sick tonight. Or is it sick and tired? Sick of being tired? Whatever. I’m not a glass half empty or half full type of gal. I’m sort of a realist… the glass has something in it. So if you’re reading this, understand that I’m not complaining. Facts are facts, and teachers work harder than most people realize. You get what you get with this blog and don’t fuss a bit (I forgot we’re adults here… sorry I’m still in preschool mode).

This has been a fantastic month. This has been a hard month. Work, home, and social events have come at me faster than I can finish my to-do list. Before I go on, let me explain what happens when I personally get so tired that I’m not functioning well (you’re going to love it). Within a thirty minute span, I managed the following yesterday morning ( y’all try not to get jealous ).

1. I was brushing my teeth and a huge glob of toothpaste went down my shirt.

2. I stepped in the shower and promptly took my towel with me.

3. I lost the hair dryer (you read it correctly).

4. I sat on the toilet without pulling down my unmentionables (sorry, but I couldn’t let this one go).

We have a winner.

I could have as easily called titled this “Parent Tired.” We raise our children, try to have friends, go to church, go to work, and the list doesn’t stop. I also performed the above feats on two nights of MINIMAL sleep and an ensuing cold. But as a parent who is also a teacher, I can attest to the fact that there’s nothing like “teacher tired”. What we do the whole month of May is comparable to working retail on Black Friday. Oh, yes, most of us have families, as well. It’s not for the weak or meek. We don’t do it for the money, so I can assure you I do what I do because I think it’s challenging and fun. Here are some ways you know that you have reached the level of teacher tired.

1. Your classroom is cleaner than your house.
2. Your house looks like someone shook it and everything landed “wherever.” ( see #1)
3. You’ve put off doctor appointments, hair appointments, and getting groceries so you can go straight home after work.
4. Your car looks like you live in it.(see #1 AGAIN)
5. Supper is whatever your family can find to microwave, slap on some bread, or otherwise pour in a bowl with milk…… for the fifth night in a row.
6. You can’t relax. I had some time over spring break to sit on the porch with a magazine. Ummm, nope.
7. Saturday and Sunday just aren’t enough anymore.
8. You come home to your own child and don’t have much to give in the way of time or energy (this is where I get emotional)
9. You look forward to summer so you can clean and clean out closets (see #1… it’s really popular

You share the same bedtime with your own children.

I know it’s hard, teachers. Rest is coming soon. You’re good at what you do and no one can replace your influence in your classroom. What you do matters, even on the days you feel unsure of yourself. So hang on for a little longer, and please hang up your towel before you step in the shower.

When I have writing material by 7:07 am, it’s on. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. This is never more true than the morning of a major life event. Speaking of which, I seem to write about “functions” quite often. This would include Christmas, Mardi Gras, and high school activities. It’s like Peggy Post meets Erma Bombeck (look them up if you must). Is this a blog or a social column in the paper? Anyway, back to writing material. Seven in the morning is a little early to be inspired.

Let me clue you in first. My children attend the Catholic school where I teach. It’s a small school, and a very sweet school. We fit in fine (even though we’re Baptist). There is a special Mass held for the senior in which students and teachers get up to speak about each graduate. Our daughter, who is a freshman, spoke on behalf of our senior. I cried and was so proud of both of them. This isn’t graduation. That comes on another day. Such a special service requires much work for the teachers. We are very appreciative to all of them.

Parents work hard to help their seniors get to this point, as well. Doesn’t it seem like if something is going to happen, it happens on important occasions? No? Well, aren’t you lucky😂? I was nervous for our daughter, so I didn’t sleep well the night before. Y’all. What I saw in the mirror that morning was ROUGH. I would say it, but I’m a Christian. The bags under my eyes were just awesome. I’ve got a cream for that, though. No biggie.

The next wonderful event was putting on my dress for Mass. I was SO excited because it was last year’s Easter dress. I thought I was so fortunate not to have to go shopping for a new dress. Something felt “off” when I put it on. As I turned to look at the back, I figured out what it was. It had shrunk SEVERAL inches. My hair was wet, I had on no makeup, had to dress the baby, and had forty-five minutes until time to leave. “What do I wear?”, I thought. I put on the same outfit I had worn to awards night only a few days earlier. The horror! Are Southern women even allowed to do that?

Time to get the baby ready. I went to take him out of his crib and his left leg CRUMPLED under him. This happened several more times. I was thinking he had broken something. It was awful! He kept walking and falling. As this was happening, my older son called and informed me he was missing his graduation stole. The baby’s leg started “working” again ( he had slept on it funny) and our older son found the stole (which was at school and he kept saying I had).

I got the baby to daycare and made it on time to Mass. It turns out that I was actually early. The rest of the day was filled with laughter, tears, and many memories. Looking back on the day, I had to laugh (especially at the undereye bags and my “inappropriate” dress). Honestly, I think that the stressful moments make the special ones even more special. We can remember the work it took to get there and appreciate the journey. So my advice to anyone attending a senior Mass is to get enough sleep and try on your clothes the night before the big event. Oh, yes…. take plenty of tissue. You’ll need it.

Being a mother is learning about strengths you didn’t know you had, and dealing with fears you didn’t know existed. Linda Wooten

Lest anyone assume this is a Mother’s Day themed blog, let me put that to rest. I’ve already written and completely deleted this entry twice…. over a week ago. I didn’t even save a draft. I’ll explain very shortly. Because Mother’s Day is tomorrow, though, and because I’m a mom, it’s fairly easy to combine two blog subjects into one.

Do any of you mothers feel like the world would stop rotating if you took off a day of “mom” responsibilities? If so, y’all are my kind. I have the “gift of guilty” as we refer to it in my family. The Weight of the World, Mrs. Do-it-all, The. Buck. Stops. Here. These are just an assortment of names I might answer to depending on the day and circumstances. In other words, I care a WHOLE LOT, and I’ll bet you do, as well.

I said I would explain, so here it is. This entry was originally about the subject of anxiety. I was “proud” (i.e. embarrassed), so I deleted it. Also, I’m a mom and I’m supposed to wear a cape and DO ALL THE THINGS. The weird thing is that several people have talked to me in the past two weeks about their own anxiety and they have all been moms without the exception of one (still female, though). I’ve felt the constant pull to write about this subject, so I will. Be nice and thank you.

A week ago today, our older son had a baseball game. While we were there, the weather basically disintegrated. I’m talking cloudy one minute and blowing sideways rain the next. The wind was blowing off signs from the fence. I just knew a cow was going to go by and a mean lady on a bicycle. It was a Wizard of Oz experience and not pleasant. So much so that we all retreated into the concession stand. Picture adults and teenagers standing in there while wind and rain whip around the place.

My daughter forgot to tell me she was retreating elsewhere with my husband. I didn’t know if she was safe. I could feel it coming… an anxiety attack. I was mortified, but i couldn’t control it. I tried to just keep to myself, but my fast breathing probably gave me away. “Awesome,” I thought. “Everyone thinks I’m goofy.” The sweetest man (a player’s grandfather) told me where my daughter was and I pulled myself together. I was mortified.

The game was called for bad weather (duh). On Monday night, the game resumed. I was very nervous as my son was pitching. If we lost this game, it would be the last of his high school career. Last year he was pitching against a major rival and I was so anxious I had tears in my eyes. “Don’t let him see you do that,” another mother advised. I knew I couldn’t have an anxiety attack at this game, so I prayed… hard. I didn’t pray for a win. I prayed to keep it together. We lost and he was clearly devastated. I hugged him and reminded him that he did his best. Not once did I cry in front of him.

Thinking back on the week’s events, the irony struggle me that my anxiety attack over my daughter’s safety was no different than the anxiety I felt for my son’s important game. The difference was that I fell apart in the absence of one child, and kept it together in the presence of the other. And that’s what we do as mothers, isn’t it? We keep it together the best we knew how in the moment, and for that I’m not ashamed… even though the anxiety was embarrassing, I was doing my best in that situation.

I pray each of you have a blessed Mother’s Day… you are strong. I am strong. After all, we are mothers.