This morning, we attended the last game of Jeremy's t-ball season. When he got up to bat, my inner softball player came out and coached him from the sideline..."This is the last time up to bat this season, buddy! So hit it 'Jeremy Style'...hit it as hard as you can!"
Little Dude didn't disappoint! He whacked that ball good 'n' hard and sent it sailing to the outfield! I leapt to me feet so fast, screaming at the top of my lungs, tears filling my eyes. It was all blurry, but I didn't even care because my heart was filled was such pride. That's MY boy!
Driving home, it hit me that I always thought there were just two kinds of tears: tears of sadness and tears of joy. But parenthood has taught me a new way to cry: with tears of PRIDE!
As I sat down to begin writing this post, I was overwhelmed with emotion...not at his t-ball playing, but at how incredibly grateful I am that God has given me these three amazing, precious, awesome children to parent and to love. I couldn't love them more. We may not share DNA, but they are my flesh and blood just the same. And I couldn't be more proud to call them my own!
