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Taking Note

Not gonna lie. The girls saying they didn't love me and didn't want to live here hurt like hell. Especially coming just one day after Kate's sweet moment of saying she loved and wanted, "dis one".

I couldn't sleep that night until I reminded myself that it's actions, not words, when dealing with kids. Especially the littles.

So I took note of how many times today Kate ran up and wrapped her arms around my leg and gave it a hug...just because. Twelve random moments when she needed to make contact and then happily ran off, comforted.

I took note of how many times Jane called me "mama" in casual conversation because it's a big deal that a word that girl refused to use for months has now become something she uses un-selfconsciously.

I made myself sit and smile back each time they looked me in the face and grinned for one of those simple, no-big-deal reasons.

I slowed down to enjoy each cute and funny thing they did. Let myself be mesmerized just like a real mother is by her own children.

There is love here. There is a bond. The words they spoke were about grief, not lack of love. About the terribly unfair world that makes them feel they have to choose.

It is hard, though, to simultaneously be soft and open to them while being thick-skinned and toughened to their behaviors. Really tough.
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