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When you’ve had a rough day at school, I hope you bring it home.

When you lose the game or fail the test or don’t get the part, I hope you bring it home.

When you inevitably get your heartbroken for the first time, I hope you bring it home. 

When you are grown up, with babies of your own, and the stress of parenthood becomes too much, I hope you bring it home.

Growing up, I lived in a small house. The kind of small that you can tell who is coming up the stairs just by the sound of their footsteps. The kind of small that you could have a conversation with someone in another room without yelling. The kind of small that there was no room to hide your feelings, your bad days, your heartbreak.

At times, it was hard to be a teenager in that house but I have come to realize there was no greater blessing God has given me than growing up in that house, that home. 

When I was put on bedrest at 25-weeks pregnant, I went to my parents’ house while my husband was at work. When the trials of being a new mom got to me, I went back to their house. When I had to have surgery at three weeks postpartum, again, I went back. And I will continue to go back, every week, with every struggle. It is my safe place.

I don’t think I will ever outgrow the safety I feel walking through the front door of my mom and dad’s house.

I tell you all that, to say this: my wish for my babies is that they always know they can bring it home to me.

I want them to grow up knowing that their safe place will always be our house, whether they are four or 40.

I want to know that I did all I could for my children so that when they are older they feel comfortable crashing through the door, slumping down on the couch, and letting the weight of the world disappear from their shoulders, any time of day, any day of the week.

I don’t know what the next 18 years will bring, I don’t even know what the next eight days will bring and maybe it is crazy for me to even be thinking of when my kids are old enough to move out, but I can’t help but hope they know they can always bring it home to me. 

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So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

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Stephanie Lockhart

Young mama to a beautiful baby girl. Wife to the most amazing husband. Writing these stories/experiences in hopes of reaching mamas who are struggling to realize they are doing AMAZING.

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