My kids don’t care that their bread isn’t homemade.
My kids don’t care that we don’t take fancy vacations every summer.
My kids don’t care that I feel more confident and put-together in skinny jeans than straight and baggy ones.
My kids don’t care that I drive a used minivan with some body damage.
My kids don’t care that I’m not very athletic. My kids care that I play outside with them.
My kids don’t care that I carry a little more weight around my middle nowadays. They care that I’m their comforter and safe place.
My kids don’t care if I do something silly to embarrass them – they care and know that it’s ok to not take yourself too seriously.
My kids don’t care that I’m taller than their Daddy – they care that they can rest easy, knowing we’re very much in love.
My kids are learning to care that a person’s worth does not come from how they look or what they have.
My kids are learning to care about others, sometimes even more than they care about themselves.
My kids are learning to care about priorities and boundaries.
My kids are learning to care about their spiritual health and choosing God above everything else.
My kids care that I let them blast their favorite songs in the minivan with the windows down while they scream-sing.
My kids care that I know their favorite after school snack.
My kids care that I sing-ask them to “
tell me something good…doo diddle doo ” at dinner.
My kids care that there is a homemade birthday cake made especially for them.
My kids care that I always read in character voices.
My kids care that I tuck them in each night.
My kids don’t care that I often feel awkward and quirky. They care about how they see me…they care that I’m “Mom.”