Motherhood is not my thing, really. I just live it, everyday, trying not to regret it, each day. Selfishness consumes me all too often. I love them, though, more than myself. They are my life’s reason, my pride and joy, my full heart’s greatest love. I remember, in vivid detail, my children’s births. I have seen these little people wake up to the world each day. And each day I fall in love with them a little more. They amaze me, frustrate me, anger me, console me, and know me – as their mother. Imperfect, sometimes screaming mad, kissing wounds, playing blocks, feeding snacks, crying with them, always with them. I am a mother. I am their mother. Nothing more, nothing less.