By Sandy Brannan 
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 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.
If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!
Order NowCheck out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!
Order Now
by Jessica Johnston 
by Claudia Caramiello 
