Is that so wrong?

Madison has had the flu. Four weeks away from perfect attendance and sickness prevailed. I remember my mom bringing me ice chips and putting a cool, damp washcloth on my forehead when I had a fever. I was amazed at her ability to read that old mercury thermometer. I had frequent ear infections when I was little and I remember her warming my ear drops before putting them in my ear. In the middle of the night. Then she rocked me. And sang. Like she wasn't worn out and ready to get back to bed. I can feel the sway of Dad's recliner rocking and the vibration of her songs against my ear as I laid my head on her chest. She made being sick a little less miserable.

The first time I got sick as a married woman...I wanted my mom. And her couch. And her cozy quilt that was usually on the couch.

I saw a sign in my favorite little craft store, and it said, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, I am my mother, after all!" Like that would be a bad thing. I have noticed that when I remind myself of my mother I am doing something good. When I am reading some of my favorite childhood books to the kids sometimes my voice sounds more like hers than my own.

I read a quote once that said, "Instill great values in your children today and your grandchildren will prosper tomorrow." As my kids grow I often notice situations confirming that quote. So I rock the kids when they are sick - regardless of the time. I do the washcloths and ice chips. And I sing. I hope the kids miss me a little bit when they leave home. Is that so wrong?