I love being a mother, just love it. All aspects of it, the late nights, in sickness and in health I love being a mom. Took me a while to get there as I knew I didn’t want to be the same kind of mother as the one who raised me, and it took me a while to prove to myself unequivocably that I wouldn’t be. I had the strength to break the mold.

The children couldn’t wait to present me with what they had been working on in school for Mother’s Day. They both gave me coupon books I can redeem at any time. Sierra gave me a coupon for 10,000 kisses and Lincoln a coupon for one kiss (typical). Sierra offered to bring me breakfast in bed and Lincoln offered to wash my car.

Sierra wrote me the nicest most heartfelt letter, in her perfect handwriting which said: Mom, I love you because you are helpful, kind and beautiful. You try your hardest. You are very smart and you think a lot. You have very beautiful clothing and you are sweet and kind.

Now that makes me feel good. That my daughter recognizes I do try my hardest every single day AND that I do think a lot. Not many believe that to be true, but the ones that do see it are the ones that count to me.