These boys! I will miss them as they all head in different directions.
I will miss the boys, but how I’ll miss the mommas. I love and appreciate the strong young men they have raised. My boy has grown into a young man alongside many of these young men. Strong mommas raised these young men. Mommas who supported me and my boy.
Here’s to all the moms who were in the trenches with me
The mommas who have been a part of our lives since the sandbox years, the busy elementary years, the clumsy middle school years, and the fly-by high school years.
The mommas who I knew were praying for my boy.
The mommas who opened their homes to my boy and all the other rowdy boys.
The mommas who filled my soul with laughter.
The mommas who fed the bottomless pit boys.
The mommas who commiserated recent boy back talk with ‘uh-huhs’ echoing like amens in a Southern Baptist Church.
The mommas with whom I stood in the rain, waiting for the storm to pass — devoted mommas who waited to see the games, the performances, and the events.
The tireless mommas who volunteered for all the many activities to see and cheer on our boys.
The mommas who shared the hard stories as a way to silently whisper — ‘we have been there too, sweet momma.’
The mommas who snapped photos of my boy as if he were her own.
The mommas who witnessed moments to be shared with the other mommas, us laughing at the stories we may or may not have ever heard from our boys.
I want to thank all the moms who supported me
The mommas have varying parenting styles, but not one claims to have it right. Mostly just doing our best and admitting as much. Establishing rules to reign the boys in, knowing the rules will be challenged and consequences will follow.
The mommas who agreed or disagreed on parenting decisions but remained united in supporting each other.
The mommas with different political views and the grace to not force those views on the boys or the other mommas.
The mommas who corrected, with love, when my boy knew better and needed some momma wisdom.
The mommas who witnessed the heartbreaks as we constrained ourselves and each other as our boys navigated the girl scene. Listening and sharing bits of intel gathered from all the boys to confirm our boys’ hearts would eventually recover.
The mommas who did not judge me or my boy.
The mommas who simply listened and did not share my story.
The mommas who were forgiving of childhood immaturity and the passing disagreements as our boys flourished and floundered.
The mommas who cheered on my boy with sincerity.
The mommas who took the ever so important and sometimes unattainable high school scores for what they really were—simply numbers.
The mommas who celebrated the boys individually for their talents and gifts. The mommas who celebrated the wins, the losses, the achievements but were really celebrating the boy.
The mommas who understood boys would be boys, and mistakes will be made. They knew the boy’s momma had talked, advocated, appealed, restricted, given in, regretted, negotiated, held firm, and all the other works of progress. And yet, mistakes were still made.
I want to thank all the moms who struggled with me
The mommas who shared they struggled to work, partner, and parent and keep it all organized with infinite patience and a smile.
The mommas who walked for miles with me as we walked off the weight of parenting, second-guessing all of our decisions as we walked and talked.
The mommas who showed my boy and me grace.
The mommas who cried tears of joy as we watched our boys graduate high school. We did it — together.
The mommas who loved my boy and loved me.
There is nothing like the love of a momma. The real mommas — authentic, strong, supportive. My tribe of mommas. The world needs more momma devotion — a little more momma-to-momma love.
True mom love and mom support without the competition and the ever-so-often deep need of so many mommas to remind all the other momma bears to beware, sometimes with the most gentle yet dangerous smile…
I have been fortunate to find authentic mommas. As time passes, I will remain friends with all of the mommas, some closer than others. But, truth be told, I know from my older boy that many of the mom’s friendships will fade with the fall leaves. Still there, but the deepness of the mom relationship evolves. No longer on the same schedules, attending the same events, or hanging out with boys on weekends.
The boys will grow into young men and walk in many different directions. The boys were our bond. So, I will miss the boys, but oh, how I will miss the mommas.
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