where wildly different is perfectly normal
Someday, they’ll pay for their own therapy
Someday, they’ll pay for their own therapy

Someday, they’ll pay for their own therapy

Karen had a wonderful quote she shared yesterday. Go read it, I’m not going anywhere.

You back? Good. Her post got me thinking about a small placard my mom gave me when A was born.

Oh give me patience when wee hands
Tug at me with their small demands.
And give me gentle and smiling eyes
Keep my lips from hasty replies.
And let not weariness, confusion, or noise
Obscure my vision of life’s fleeting joys.
So when, in years to come, my house is still-
No bitter memories its room may fill.

I have no idea who wrote this, or where my mom got it. It’s on a wood plaque, printed on parchment-like paper with burned edges. I know she had it the entire time I was growing up, and she gave it to me because it helped her so much. I have it over the jewelry box in my bedroom and read it every day.

Does it help? Sometimes. And sometimes it’s a rebuke. I am not as patient as I could be. I certainly don’t have gentle and smiling eyes some days, and hasty replies? Well…I’ve been known to drop the f-bomb in front of the boys. I don’t think I heard my mom drop the f-bomb until I was in college.

It is certainly a prayer of sorts, and there are days when it runs through my head in a continuous loop. I need it in front of me on a daily basis, to keep me on the right path. ‘Cause with my two…I need all the help I can get.


Whaddya think?

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