On motherhood...

So, I'm sitting in the living room with a box of Kleenex (I still can't believe I have a cold), a decent cup of tea and a warm slice of homemade banana bread.

On the kitchen counter lies a good portion of Child #3's homework. It's completed. He's very good at that. But, somehow, this little stack didn't make it into his backpack. I don't think he realizes yet. He did remember to take his math, and that's what they'll be correcting now. But in an hour or so, he'll go to pull out his Language Arts papers and have a little panicky moment while he digs through all his stuff. Then, a little light bulb will go on, and he'll think of the counter and know what happened.

There's a part of me that wants to jump up and rush to the school and give him his homework before his name goes on the board for missing assignments.

I want to save him. Because he's 12. And I can still save him. Because he's 12, and he'll still let me save him.

Motherhood is not for sissies...