to love my children more, to take more moments to gaze at them and allow that emotion to overwhelm me.
to be filled with the same joyful exuberance that fills our home rather than be annoyed by the noise.
to enjoy my children and their childishness rather than wish them to a more responsible stage.
to embrace those squirming, wriggling little bodies rather than try to hold them still.
to keep God’s plan for their lives in perspective rather than become frustrated at their constant fights and failures.
to see my children through the eyes of the Good Shepherd, loving little lost sheep back to the fold, rather than collapsing exhausted at the endless task of corralling them.
I’m learning these lessons slowly, and I’m not always the best student. Yet, I do wish that my heart were big enough and my mind were sharp enough to store the treasure of every moment with my children, to memorize every smile, to record every laugh, to hold onto every kiss and squeeze.
Because someday, I’ll graduate from the school of motherhood, whether I’ve learned my lessons or not.