Who’s Da Momma?

Who’s Da Momma?

Dom found this very, very, laugh-out-loud, be-sure-you aren’t-drinking-any-milk-because-you-might-spray-your-computer-screen, funny blog. For example, there’s the flower girl story. I don’t remember when I’ve laughed so much.

And yet she can be incredibly sweet and thoughtful and capture the bitter-sweet heart of motherhood too:

It hit me then, the imperfection of it all. Oh Ren, I wish you had had a chance to be first. To be my only, to be the center of my world for three years. And Mare, I wish you had had a chance to be second, to be the child born into my wisdom and experience, spared my insecurities � my incessant attention.

This is the complexity of two � the first doesn’t get as much as she used to and the second will never get that much at all.


This, then, is why they have each other. Not for constant joy, but for constancy itself. At the end of they day, they are sisters. They teach each other to get along in the world, and they are each other’s harbor � even when they are each other’s storm.

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