Years when children, perpetually in motion, required a referee – Mom’s energy replete so ephemeral now – time having vanished, weariness lingering, savouring memory blurs.
One a Tom – night prowler, elusive schemer – renders me sleepless. Another, pampered, a diva demanding, high anxiety to boot – makes me crazy.
A mother’s heart is the sun – the rays of her love, the beams upon which a child learns the skills necessary to navigate life’s
Daughters ride emotional escalators – while sons prefer a higher ground – more attic than sound, motivations vague Parents observe, bite tongues wish they had
She is listening, watching, her mind absorbing – so many images, emotions, lacks the filters, the context to frame experience into rational understanding – guide
Come one! Come all! Step right up folks! See the amazing, one-of-a-kind, baby-juggling woman! Come see this matron turned tigress! Witness how the weaker sex