being a mama

It is late and I am rocking sweet Jackson. He asks for so little, really. He just wants to be fed, held, and loved. So little to ask of life. Sometimes I wonder what is harder: to be the center of the universe of a very talkative boy who understands almost as much about the world as he doesn’t, or to be the center of the universe of a brand-new baby whose perception of the world and his place in it are being formed by the bedrock of this experience. One is not more important than the other; although one stage will be more forgiving at times, less forgiving at others. I live with this realization daily, of the importance of my actions, as though it were nothing, commonplace. Then I will think about it, and suddenly the enormity of it is overwhelming. 

Let me do right by them, everyday. 

And when I do not, let me apologize, and let them forgive me. 

   
 

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