Being a boymom

With every big hug, every fist bump, every stick, every stone, every bouquet of clovers and wild onion, my heart beats a little faster.

hands dirty from digging in the dirt

Every spontaneous prayer spoken over me to feel better softens my heart.

voice soft, whispering to God

Every act of acceptance shown to everyone–from the sweet baby in the doctor’s office to the sweaty guys landscaping the playground–sparks wonder in my heart.

knees scuffed on the trees they climb

So when the frustration spikes and high fives are few, I replay these memories. This emotion.

this love



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