So I'm actually seeing now that motherhood has been and is an incredible gift in so many ways. The perfect gift, sometimes wrapped in really ugly paper, but lovely and amazing on the inside when you turn it around and look at it from a new angle.
It is exhausting, frustrating, exasperating, chaotic humdrum. But somewhere in the humdrum is a little spark of magic or a little whisp of loveliness. And you see it occasionally hiding within and beneath and beyond.
And when you look directly at it, it shimmers and shines and whispers, "And this is love."