I posted this a year ago around Mother’s Day. As we head toward another softball tournament on another Mother’s Day weekend I remembered this. I’ve cried on my mothers shoulder just recently which just confirms to me that we never stop needing our moms even when we become mind.
This weekend I spent a lot of time on the other side of mothering, the side that isn’t gooey and sweet and special and touching. My weekend was spent in the trenches, in the nitty-gritty and the dirty part of being a mother.
This weekend I had to deal with heartbreak, disappointment and growing up. I had to look at a little girl and hide my own tears as I dried hers. I had to watch her hurt knowing that there was nothing I could do to fix it or to make it better. Like most moms, I had to juggle many tasks this weekend but none was as hard as trying to find the right words at the right time to make my daughter feel loved and worthy.
In the grand scheme of life her pain this weekend was miniscule but I try to remember that at 10 the…
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