I believe in playing in the rain with rubber boots and purple umbrellas.
I believe in cereal for dinner and drinking the milk out of the bowl.
I believe in story time with actual books containing actual pages.
I believe in trips to the grocery store with little people hanging off of every limb.
I believe in trips to Target all alone as a reward for the trips to the grocery store.
I believe in cheap sunglasses and five dollar coffee.
I believe in welcoming babies into my bed in the middle of the night.
I believe in bubble baths and kids wrapped in warm, fluffy towels.
I believe in guilt-free girl time and phone-free family time.
I believe in Little House on the Prairie and Jesus Loves Me, this I know.
I believe in rocking babies cause babies don’t keep and counting blessings instead of sheep.
I believe in footie pajamas and late night snuggles.
I believe in the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny and taking full credit for being both.
I believe in picnics and park swings.
I believe in camp outs in the backyard – with daddy, cause mama ain’t got time for that.
I believe in saying, “I’m sorry” and “I forgive you.”
I believe in road trips with windows rolled down and plenty of Dramamine.
I believe in clipping coupons and, occasionally, splurging.
I believe that your family can look nothing like mine, that we can parent very differently, that you can breast feed and I can bottle, that you can have one kid and I can have five, that you can use whole foods and I can use frozen. I believe that, in the midst of the differences, we can still stand together and raise our babes the best we can.
Because, at the end of the day, I believe mothers are rock stars who just happen to smell like spit up.