my lot in life (returned)

They say those who do not know history are destined to repeat it.

Sometimes, however, history repeats itself regardless of my remembering.  Wash, rinse, repeat. Feed, change, repeat. The new baby cries, suckles, needs constant attention. Then grows, walks, talks, and suddenly, you realize, history has repeated itself once again.

For a mother,  the not remembering is a blessing and a curse. If we remembered vividly the morning sickness, the fatigue, the frustration we probably would stop after one child.  So we forget. And with it we may also forget the good things too. The things that fill our hearts with happiness and light. I try to write them down, so that maybe I can remember.

What a sweet, blessed history I have with these little souls in my care.

(P.S. This almost makes me okay with the lack of dishwasher-ness that is my life.)
(P.P.S. Almost)