Sometimes I miss my little children
Sometimes I miss my little children.
Just for reference (in case anyone reads this): I am a mother of three grown children, grandmother of 6.
I remember what it was like to have three small children always wanting your attention and feeling like you are never succeeding in giving enough to any of them. I remember that I just wanted to be alone, time to go to the bathroom or take a shower without someone trying to breakdown the door to find out where I am. I remember I just wanted to eat a meal without having to share my food or preparing a meal that wasn't met with eeuuh, yucks.
But I also remember the snuggles. I remember when my three year-old little boy would snuggle and put his hand just inside my shirt so he could touch my skin. Or his chubby little hands reaching up to mine. I remember little girls coming in to snuggle in bed with me in the morning or during naps. I remember when they didn't want to leave my side.
Now they are grown and I miss those chubby little hands.
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