Four children; four pots to fill with love, hanging on the hooks that are family. And it is an every-day kind of thing; did everyone else know this before they had kids?
As night falls at the end of each day, I sit and wonder if I've done my job. I wonder... which of them is lacking a few ounces of acceptance, of compassion, of structure, of guidance, of optimism?
And the idea that I've "done my job" vanishes into the starry night as plans for tomorrow's filling come into focus.
On my watch I want their pots to be full... and overflowing.