My Girls

I knew, even when I was a kid that my Mom was something special. Like so many women in the 1950's, she was a stay at home Mom. I never remember a time when she wasn't there after school with a snack setting on the kitchen table for me. She could read me like a book and often would know when something was bothering me. In tune, she knew what was in my mind and on my heart. I don't know how she would know if I'd been bad, but she could pick up on it like she had radar mounted on her head! One time I had rode my bike outside the perimeter that was deemed safe-- the two blocks around my house. I guess I had been gone just a little too long. She met me at the end of the driveway with a switch in her hand. I immediately told her what I had done and faced the music. It wasn't too bad, and it wasn't child abuse- she was just doing what her own Mother would have done. She had a clear goal, to raise me right. A good dose of morals and a strong faith would help me with whatever life had in store. I owe so much to the lessons she taught me and the example she set. 

Everyday my daughters face the struggles of raising kids. Often times you just don't know if you are doing the right thing, at the right time, for the right reason. But deep inside are all the guidelines we need to raise our children. It comes from our own upbringing, the things we've been taught and the wisom we've learned all along the way. Keeping a prayer going up every day doesn't hurt a thing either...