Once I had kids, it seems as if I hopped on the Parenting Freeway and never exited.

I’ve changed, but for the better I think.

Priorities certainly change. I no longer fantasize about being a belly-dancer like I did as a child. Instead, the days are centered around the boys and their needs, just like many other parents.

Some may say it is a tiring responsibility, and some may argue that they no longer have time to themselves. Been there. STILL there, as a matter of fact. Conversations get interrupted, the days are never-ending, and some days I could almost swear I’m a referee, not a mother.

Yet, each day, there are reminders of why I’m glad I traveled this path in life. Such as…

At the doctor’s office, when Griffin grabbed my arm and put it around his waist to calm his nerves.

Waking up to a kiss from my youngest, who had walked into my room looking like Linus with his blanket dragging behind him.

Being handed an interesting-looking piece of artwork by my youngest who said, “This is for you, Mom. Will you show your friends at work?”

Hearing my oldest tell a friend, “Want one of my Mom’s cookies? She makes the best.”

Hearing my youngest singing in the bathroom as he stands on a stool and washes his hands for a good five minutes.

Watching my oldest bashfully shove his hands in his pockets as he orders for himself at restaurants.

Watching my youngest scan the bleachers for his Daddy at soccer practice, then grin and wave when he finds him.

And finally, having my oldest tell me the name of his best friend, only to have my youngest say, “I thought I was your best friend, Gwiff.”

I like the Parenting Freeway. It’s, hands-down, the best road-trip I’ve taken.

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