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I suppose we’ll never know how much we take our own mothers for granted. They aren’t perfect. They mess up some times, in ways that hurt them more than they hurt us, because like Ann remembered, we’re all sinners.
They aren’t perfect, but they come pretty darn close.
She wanted to go to India.
Instead, she had four bundles of energy: the first boy, the second boy. The third and the fourth came together.
Two sets of two.
Enough testosterone to keep you on your toes (and knees) for a very long time.
Yet, you see so much grace in Kristin. So much patience. Every holler for attention taken in stride, with love. Every begging to read-me-a-story met with a grin and a pull-into-the-lap.
This little one – she was was a surprise. Unplanned. Unexpected. (Much like grace is given.) But very much wanted.
And suddenly one act of love between man&woman has brought pink clothes, pink bows, pink blankets, pink-everything into the lives of these boys and their out-numbered Mom.
She’s one of two women I know and love who have not chosen to mother four boys, but do it with grace and purpose and love.
And now, as of five days ago, she has a daughter to love, also. She and K.F. learn to parents over&again to this little miss.
So grateful she and K let me in for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon to capture a few of these moments.
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