The more she grows into her person, the more fearful I am about having to teach her all the lessons. Will I be able to teach her ALL the lessons?What if I run out of time? What if she learns them without me? What if that isn’t the plan after all?

I see a whole bunch of people loving the fuck out of our children. We are parents, you and I, conforming, reforming, reliving, just living. Someday the little ones aren’t so little anymore and perhaps then our modeling comes to mean for something. I pray with all our efforts, we can be a little less pessimistic and a little more hopeful the world is safer, the world is kinder, the world is just. And our children, our angels, our little guys, our little shits, our little Bubs can be free to be the perfect humans that they are.