I've been taking my time with the book of Luke this summer as a part of a series that my Church is putting on, and I am LOVING it because it gives me time to fully digest and meditate on all of the truths in front of me. The one verse that I keep coming back to in my mind is about the mother of all mothers.
I think it's fair to say that most things that happen during our journey through momming and parenthood are universal across all people and cultures. No matter who we are, we feel a terrifying sense of responsibility of how our kids turn out in this ever-changing world. We don't fully realize this until these little aliens are placed in our arms for the first time. When they hand you your pink, slimy baby, your first thought is, "OMG SO MUCH FUDGING LOVE FOR THIS MONSTER!!!" Immediately followed by, "I hope he doesn't become a serial killer."
We attempted our first Easter Egg "hunt" with our 18 month old this year. By "hunt" I mean we threw a bunch of plastic eggs in 10 foot radius in the grass in our back yard and asked him to "clean up" by putting them in the lime green basket I found in "The Spot" at Target. He picked up about 60% of them before he started grabbing them out of the basket, shouting "BALL" and throwing them back into the grass. We got our instagram photo (which is the only reason we do these things anyway, right?), so we're good.