I have been peed on, pooped on, thrown up on and had my ears pierced with blood curdling screams and I’ve been loving very minute of it.
How do those little bundles of wrinkled flesh wrap us around their very little fingers so tightly?
I’m tired and achy and happy as a lark.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not ready to be a mom again by and stretch of the imagination. But I have to admit, I’m loving this Grandma thing.
Even with all the unintentional abuse.