I got my red crocs for Mother's Day last year. Secretly: I didn't like them, and didn't really want them. But because I didn't want to hurt my childrens' feelings, I put on my best smile and embraced the wearing of plastic shoes with enough sweetness to make your teeth hurt. Now? I'm finding that I've worn them so much over the past year that I'm mourning my future without them. They have holes in the bottoms and have worn very thin in other places.
Duct Tape. Need I say more? When you're out of duct tape, it's like not having milk in the house. I used to think about doing the following, but never acted on it:
But mostly what I'm grateful for, that I take for granted on a daily basis, is the time I get to spend being a mother. Every single minute is a gift. Even the rotten ones. I am at peace with my chaotic, cluttered, unorganized home when I look around and see evidence of the children that live here. I know that this is what's right for me.
I'm humbled by and grateful for my badge of motherhood.