I wonder if other moms look at their kids sometimes and think, "I grew these guy. In my belly. From tiny little specks of cells to actual little persons." It's kind of crazy when you really stop to think about it. Miraculous. It makes me wonder how anyone can not believe in a God of miracles.
The other day someone on Facebook asked if anybody actually has grown up to be what they wanted to be when they were little. And I didn't respond (because I normally don't involve myself on Facebook, aside from being secret stalker and looking at things but not engaging), but I thought about the answer.
My answer would be yes. In second grade I decided I wanted to be a teacher. So I grew up and became a teacher. I never had any desire to deviate from that course, and I consistently knew that was what I wanted to do for my grown up job. But more than that, I wanted to be a mom. And now I'm so so grateful that I got to be what I wanted to be when I grew up.