There are times like today, when I’m worn out and not in the mood.
Those are the times when I sit down, head in hands, and let the hot tears of frustration escape from my eyes.
And usually, when I’m sitting there, feeling oh-so-sorry for myself, I remember something else.
I remember one of the times that my love is so strong, so deep that I can’t see anything else.
It’s usually something simple that triggers that familiar, warm swelling in my chest.
Like him asking if he can cuddle with me.
Or saying to his sister, “Come on! Let’s share this!”
Or holding my hand as we walk to the car.
For most mothers, any of those moments are ordinary. They don’t even register on the map of milestones or memories.
But for me, each is a hard-fought battle that has ended in a small win for both of us.
I’m happy to report there have been some really rewarding wins lately.