n that moment, I thought about how my kids love every last bit of me. They love their impatient, frustrated mama who sometimes yells too much. They love their mama who tells them no and enforces rules. They love their mama who tells them “time for bed!” even though they want to play a little longer.
They don’t want a more organized mom. Or a more patient mom. Or a mom who never yells. They don’t want another mom, period.
They want me, as I am. All of me.