Hanging Hope in Motherhood

Motherhood is a string of hope. I clip up my whispered longings as I breeze along the day with my tiny people in tow. Sometimes when the wind is too strong and those tiny people pull too hard, I yell. My expectations regularly misalign with reality. The hope of unspilled coffee for breakfast – dashed. I have to take a slow, deep breath, apologize and hope to be a kinder Mommy for the rest of the day. This hope I whisper is ever changing, almost as much as my toddler’s emotional displays. In the morning it is warm: “I hope we