When you’re a mom there’s no “off the clock.” You stay up with the fever and the asthma attack and fighting monsters and you still go to work in the morning. You buy lots of little clothes while you sew your own buttons back on. You make sure they’re fed before rushing to the bus whether you grabbed anything to eat or not. You fold a million pieces of laundry. You wear snot on your sleeves. You carry diapers and Chapstick and crackers and tired little bodies. You say “blow it,” “did you poop?,” “finish your homework,” “brush your teeth,” “pick that up” and “put that down,” “their rules are not my rules,” and “be safe, be safe, be safe.” You wear lovingly beaded necklaces brought home from school and give Oscar worthy performances when handed drawings of scribbles. You ground and you hug and you yell, and you restrict and you let go… slowly. You cry, laugh, worry, plead, cherish and chastise, nurture, encourage, protect. Oh and you love, you love, you love with everything in you. Being your mom is the most amazingly wonderful and courageous part of me.