Sometimes when one of my adultish children asks for a good night hug I’m reminded that even when they are kind of the worst (and trust me, they ALL are sometimes kind of the worst), they always, always still have their little kid selves in there somewhere. I’m not nostalgic for those days (because also: little kids can be the worst, too), because I think in some ways those little people never left me and never will. No one ever stops needing their mom in that way. What I wouldn’t give to curl up on a couch next to my mom and feel her cool hand on my brow one more time. I don’t get to get that, but I do get to give it, and that is powerful and wonderful.

So there’s a random evening thought where I basically insult my kids several times. It was a nicer sentiment in my mind I think. 😂