Sometimes I am startled by what motherhood has done to me.

Sometimes I am in awe of just how big my heart has gotten; I still don’t know how it fits underneath my skin.

Sometimes I wonder where I would be without my boys, all three of them, and the possibilities scare me.

Sometimes I want to hit the pause button because everything is moving too fast. I watch as feet dance and fingers color and I breath in the smell of childhood, deep long breaths, because soon it will fade.

Sometimes I cry because I am Hurt. Happy. Angry. Afraid. Tired. Grateful.

Sometimes I scream, bang my fists agains the wall, crumple to the floor and let the pain of autism in until it swallows me whole and I am drained. I am stronger after this.

Sometimes I lie to protect the innocent.

Sometimes I am confrontational. Sometimes I am soft.

Sometimes I forget to be grateful until someone else’s tragedy reminds me that I am so very blessed.

Sometimes I pick fights because I need a good excuse to throw a tantrum. Yep, at 31.

Sometimes I stare at my husband as if we just met. I fall in love with him all over again.

Sometimes I shop as if we have more money in the bank than we really do.

Sometimes I am jealous. Sometimes your grass does look greener.

Sometimes I forget how much I love music until a good song comes on the radio.

Sometimes I do not take care of myself. I don’t wax my eyebrows or get a pedicure.

Sometimes I B.S. my way through a conversation.

Sometimes I eat dessert before dinner.

Sometimes I am forgetful, apologetic, clumsy, and impolite.

Always I am in love with my superman, my monchichi, and my husband……….even though sometimes they drive me crazy.

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