pieces of me

We've been butting heads.  I can blame it on you being my wild child, or your sudden inability to hear.  

I might even blame it on all those new friends you've made in kindergarten.  (I know I sure as heck didn't teach you that attitude. I think.)

I often blame it on the fact that you're a boy and your energy is beyond anything I can comprehend.

But somewhere I know...and I know this from experience...that we will always butt heads because we are very much alike.  And I also know... again from experience... that we will come out on the other side just fine.

That experience I have? I was you; my mom was me.  There's a piece of her in me and you can bet there are pieces of me in you.

You are my afraid to fail;

my let me fix this for you…

You are my timid side;

my easy laugh.


You are my “If I can’t ace it on the first go, I don't want to go for it.”

my eager to please and afraid to disappoint.

You are my child. 

And I'm pretty proud of that.