I feel most like a mother when you don't know that I'm taking care of you. When I gently change course to avoid a loose shopping cart. When I shift you on my lap to keep you from a draft or an edge or a light in your eyes. When I deliberately linger a few steps behind because I smell smoke on the people walking ahead of us. When I smile at you and make casual conversation so you don't realize that my heart just stopped and restarted because you almost slipped in the tub or almost hit your head or almost swallowed a penny.
I've been surprised to realize that your birth didn't end my anticipation. It just changed it.
Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment