The camp bus should be arriving any moment.

It's a beautiful July afternoon.

I'm sitting on my front steps, enjoying the warmth of the sun beating on my back, and soaking in the beauty of the greenery around me.

The birds are chirping, I'm reading a book. All seems right in the world.

Yet, in the very corner of my head I'm wondering:

"How was camp?"

"I hope the other children are being kind to my kids right now on the bus."

"Are they happy?"

It's that part of my brain that runs 24/7; you know what I'm talking about.

It's what comes with being a parent. 

It's why I keep my phone next to me whenever I go out on 'date night' or 'girls night'. 

It's the reason why I have those middle-of the night moments where I will, admittedly, agonize over an unkind word said to one of my children at school, while hoping that my consequent mommy-intervention was enough to heal their heart.

Nobody can prepare you enough for all of sleepless nights, stress, and tears that parenting brings. 

Yet on the flip side, no words were able to possibly describe the true amazement, love, gratitude, and joy that raising my children has brought. 

They are each such a blessing, and, as I say so often, everything I do is for them.

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