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What My Children Teach Me About Love

Over the course of the past week I have soothed Marilee after her brother bit her on the arm (Look carefully at the oval ring of teeth marks in the photo to the left. In his defense, he seemed shocked by her tears and said, "Mom, I was pretending she was food"), cleaned up a "poo poo accident," rocked a crying baby to sleep, spilled milk in my own lap while cleaning up dinner, done six loads of laundry, wiped two noses two hundred times, sent William to time out and to his room, wiped tears from three faces. Last night, Peter was out of town. It was my first time alone with all three of them overnight. It involved two trips to the bathroom with Penny and three bouts of nursing/rocking Marilee. I'm tired. My back hurts.

Love is inconvenient.

Over the course of the past week I have heard the words, "I love you, Mom," attended a Mother's Day luncheon and watched Penny sing along with the rest of her class and then climb into my lap to cuddle, giggled with Penny and William when we pretended to put syrup on our afternoon snack, giggled with Marilee as she takes a bath, and received countless hugs and kisses.

Love is a gift.

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