Being a mother, it never ends.

The delight on my baby’s face as I look down and smile.

The endless diapers.

The constant requests for snacks.

The sticky messes everywhere.

The silly songs that never seem to stop.

The toys all over the place.

The crying.

The little voices asking me why.

RELATED: The Secret No One Told Me About the Toddler Years is How Much I Could Absolutely Love Them

The tantrums that threaten to melt me down.

The crusts cut off the sandwiches today but not tomorrow.

The lunches to pack, morning after morning after morning.

The field trip forms that need to be signed right now.

The questions I’m not ready to answer yet.

The after-school activities.

The laundry that can’t quite make it to the hamper.

The teenage drama.

The studying.

The late-night talks.

The car ride talks.

The texts letting me know you got there.

The applications.

The decisions.

The graduations.

The visits home.

RELATED: Dear Teenage Daughter, I Will Be Right Here Waiting For You to Come Back to Me

The time between the visits when the house seems so alone.

The shared memories.

The new memories to be shared.

The prayers.

The love.

The delight on my face every time I catch a glimpse of my baby in the face I’m staring up at.

Being a mother, it never ends.

Sandy Brannan

Sandy Brannan, author of Becoming Invisible, So Much Stays Hidden, Masquerade, and Frozen in Time, is a high school English teacher. Creating memories with her grandchildren is her idea of a perfect day. You can follow Sandy and read more of her writing at https://sandybrannan.com  and .