To my children,
Oh my dear babies... you drive me crazy on most days that end in 'y'. "I can't find my pants, oh wait here they are in my pants drawer..." "I'm starving, but wait, I don't want what you made for dinner...", "I hate spanish but listen to this Duke's exchange student taught me how to count from 30-50." "AGGGHHHH not church clothes... AGAIN (It's Sunday, isn't it!?)" "Nooooooo! I showered last week!" are only the tips of the iceberg...You should know that your shinanigans have no effect on my love for you because when you are 'wronged' in any stretch of the imagination... I feel it in my core.
If you are reading this, now would probably be a good time to thank your father for "yinging" out my "yang." For being the voice of reason that saves you from the embarrassment of a mother bear like actions throughout your youth. He is the calm cool and collective that you need to be your biggest advocate. He reminds me that life isn't supposed to be perfect and that there are plenty of lessons, big and small, to be learned. It might sting for a short while but what isn't going to kill you will make you into a stronger much more awesome person. It is the kids whose parents take care of everything and make excuses for them... that can't cope as adults. You will not be one of those kids. So while watching you learn a lesson that truly isn't fair... it's painful for me. You're going to be great. You're going to turn out just fine. You're going to be awesome and do awesome.
Experience is a hard teacher because she gives the test first, the lesson afterwards.
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