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You place your small hand in mine, without a second thought as to where I’ll lead you or what I’ll do. You have such complete confidence in me, far more than I have in myself.

I had no idea our relationship would be like this. In fact, the idea of you terrified me at the beginning. I was excited, yes, but not nearly as much as I was unsure.

It wasn’t that long ago that I would have never considered motherhood. I sure would have been surprised to see myself at home with you, not pursuing a career of some sort. I do work, yes, but I count the dishes and laundry among the writing and designing.

The miracle of you shocks me with what it reveals about me. I had no idea that taking your small hand would be so much fun. I didn’t expect that it would teach me more about life than two college degrees and countless books. I continue to marvel at how I can juggle things that would have seemed ridiculous, absurd, and unlikely even a few years ago.

You are a marvel: though you have a set opinion, you also have complete trust. While you create endless chaos, you also surround me with unconditional love. Though you have answers for the most preposterous questions, you never fail to ask the most insightful riddles about life.

I’ve learned more in six years as a mother than I did in six years getting two different college degrees. The diploma I’m earning now will be displayed at family dinners years from now, when you and your siblings are filling the house with more laughter and memories.

Thank you for your small hand in mine. You’re leading me down the path to better living, one adventure at a time.



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Catholic convert/wife/mom/reader/writer enjoying the idiosyncrasies of life on a farm with critters and kids

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