Julie Kemp Pick
After the sleepless nights, terrible twos, and traumatic teenage years, I often think about some of the truly amazing things that my kids have done. They're amazing to me, because they're innate acts of goodness that cannot be taught.
The first act occurred when my boys were about 2 and 5 years old. They were playing in the sun room off of the kitchen, while I was cooking dinner. At the time, my toddler was always putting everything in his mouth. I prided myself on keeping everything sparkling clean, and safe for them to play with. My little guy was just about to put something shiny in his mouth, when his big brother snatched it out of his hand. After hearing the commotion, I quickly ran into the room. My heroic son had just saved his brother from chewing on a razor blade. Evidently, a handyman had left it underneath the TV stand. I quickly scooped up my firstborn babysitter and covered him with kisses. It took me a long time to forgive myself for not seeing that razor blade. Thank goodness my wonderful son did.
Another incident that I'll never forget took place when my younger son was about 9 years old. After my great aunt's funeral, we had gone back to my grandmother's house for dinner. She was very saddened to lose her only remaining sister, but as always kept it to herself. When my mom and I had finished setting the table, we noticed that my grandma was nowhere to be found. A few minutes later, I saw my golden boy curled up with his great grandmother, comforting her in her recliner. Then they walked hand in hand back to the dining room. I never found out what words, if any were spoken, but I do know that at only 9, he was able to give her all the strength she needed.
These stories are just a few examples of why I am so proud of my boys. Sure they've made mistakes along the way, but every mother's dream is to raise good kids. Though they love being with their friends, they still put family first. I guess some dreams really do come true. If only they would friend me on Facebook.
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