Epiphany

Last night, as I lay in bed, winding down from the day, I had one of those moments. It was one of those times in life when the reality of something hits you smack in the middle of the eyes. I've been a mother for nearly three and a half years now, but just last night, the weight of that responsibility came crashing down on me. It isn't like I've spent the first three years of the girls' lives completely unaware of my role as their mom, oblivious to the fact that Jeff and I are 100 percent responsible for raising them to be good, caring, generous, loving, Christ-like, honest individuals. It was just one of those moments that sideswipes you, when the full impact of that responsibility seems terribly heavy.

I'm proud of who the girls are today, always have been. Madeline is clever, silly, surprisingly honest, and very forgiving. She has a laugh that is incredibly contagious, protects her sister, says "please" and "thank you", and doesn't let anyone walk all over her. Cadence is tender-hearted, loving, affectionate, a whiz with puzzles and anything else that requires problem solving. She often puts others before herself, already takes her faith very seriously, and is always ready with an "I love you". I happen to think they're pretty fantastic, but in that moment, I worried that maybe they're too fantastic. Isn't that a horrible thing for a parent to worry? In our world, will their sweet, caring, loving sensibilities be swallowed? Is it possible for them to remain who they are without being trampled by those around them?

In my eyes, it's a mother's job to worry; it's part of who I am. But in that moment, I had to remind myself that we can't protect our children from everything. Many well-meaning parents insulate their children from the bad things in this world, and as a result, their children are ill-equipped to face those situations. I know that it's my job, as Cadie and Maddie's mom, to raise them to be the best Cadie and Maddie that they can be. And I think we're off to a pretty good start.