There's a saying that a mother's heart is a patchwork of love. I think it's supposed to mean that with each child who comes into our lives, we add another piece to the cloth of our hearts, binding it in place with love and devotion.
But maybe, just maybe, that old saying recognizes the many ways our children can tear away at our hearts, breaking the delicate but tight stitches that put that crazy quilt of love together in the first place. Maybe, it's about how we invest so much in our kids that when their actions rip the threads that bind them to us, it can physically hurt.
I know that patches can repair the rented fabric of relationships, but, sadly, the little holes left behind take a long time to close. This mothering thing is a tough gig.
As always, work on choosing happy.
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