About very few things.

I love my husband. I’m not one to gush, but he really is a perfect match for me. I love my kids. They are wild and crazy and gentle and sweet and perfect in their imperfection.

Sometimes I think I know what they need from me, gentle, loving mommy. But the truth is, I question everything. I wonder if they get enough discipline and guidance. I wonder if they feel loved every time they need it. I question if they truly understand the importance of being kind and gentle to each other. I fantasize that they will grow into people who think of others, are confident in themselves and respect the world around them.

But the reality is I second guess everything I do. I don’t always say the right thing. I mean, really, I usually say the wrong thing.

But my heart, my heart, is always in the right place. It’s walking around outside my body. In three perfectly imperfect copies. I hope they know it. I hope they feel it, always.

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