There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss... and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics, or money, or that I have read more books, but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.

I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed.

I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child.

I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore and discover. I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him, and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot, or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child that my friends will not see.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to, or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend, and sister because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

I have prevailed.

I have succeeded.

I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.

I listen.

And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely. I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.

I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes, I will be a wonderful mother.

(Author Unknown)

Before you read this, it is important to note that Elliott has never bitten an apple (even though we've tried hundreds of times since Cooper loves them) Anyway, this is a TRUE story and I thought you'd get a big laugh out of it!!! Last night our computer had locked up and I was in the process of rebooting it. The boys were playing with their Thomas the Tank train table and running around. I called for the boys to come upstairs to the bonus room but neither of them came but I could hear them playing and they sounded like they were having a "good time". I called out that it was time to get a bath and play in the "bubbles" when Cooper came upstairs and replied "OK, lets clean up the apples". Uh? Apples? Oh no, they've gotten into the pantry and I rush to the kitchen with Cooper holding onto my finger. And there, on the kitchen floor was Elliott surrounded by 14 apples (yes I counted them) and each and every apple had one or two bites taken out of them!! Cooper had one in his hand and Elliott had one in his and they continued to chow down on the additional two apples!! Cooper apparently was teaching Elliott how to bite an apple and Elliott would bite his apple but liked to bite the area that had the skin already off. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing as I picked up the apples and cleaned up the "juice" all over the floor! I called Jonathan at work and told him what his little guys were up to and he laughed and said they are the Apple Dumpling Gang! I can't believe I didn't get a picture.....it would have been priceless!!