Kids...

I found this when I was clicking through old folders. It's about three years old but still applies...

These are NOT for the faint of heart!
In 9 years of being a mom, I think I can honestly say that this one line is applicable to every situation involving my children and the one common thread between them all.
I was all idealism with my first, convinced that he would be my little man. Wouldn't you know that, from the womb even, he only had ears for his father. After his birth, he would cry when I held him and shut up for dad. I tried not to be shattered.
With my second, I was still trying to get the hang of the first. Since she was a girl, she was completely different and it was with her that I realized that "the mother's curse" is real. She acts just like me. In my proud moments, I see her speaking kindly to other children, taking them under her wing and even teaching them to read. On my dark days, I see her crinkle her face in frustration or drop her eyebrows clear down to her chin in anger and (oh the drama) the feeling of being misunderstood.
My third was my little prince. We bonded right away and then he began to walk. He ran from me straight for the open pantry and as I watched him try to sneak gulps of pancake syrup, I realized that first and foremost in his little heart was his tummy.
With my fourth, I was somewhat leery about how she would "turn out". Given my previous experience, the only thing I knew for sure was that she would be just as unpredictable and mind-rattling as the first three. She's four now and, as with all of them, I'm still learning about her.
With all the challenges, though, the highs, the lows and the more-often-than-not-somewhere-in-between times, they stretch my heart to the limit.
Sometimes, I get so frustrated by the choices they've made that I struggle to comprehend the thought precess behind them. (What on earth makes you think it's ok to throw stuff out your window when you're cleaning your room? We live on the fourth floor of a 9 story apartment building!!!)
Other times, they come to me with such hurt on their little faces that my own heart wants to break so that theirs doesn't have to. The mother bear in me surfaces and I know that I would tear anyone who hurt my baby limb from limb. (It's a very good thing I don't see the punk kids who bully them on the playground)
Then there's the laughter...each one has a laugh that is contagious. You hear them laugh that little laugh and it doesn't matter WHAT they're laughing about (the words "fart" and " poop" are frequent favorites)...you laugh too.
The little smiles they give only you and the subtle nuances that only moms catch fill your heart till you want to hug them cause you love them so much (Mom...you're choking me) or just holler to everyone about how great your kid is. And with each one, it's different but the same and always bigger and more than you ever thought you could; and it, amazingly, still all fits inside your heart. You need a strong heart...
These are NOT for the faint of heart.