In the words of Jane Austen – or should I say Mr. Darcy - I have to tell you Bridget: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on. 52 hours. Start to finish – 52 hours. I have been married almost 13 years, am 35 years old, have a seven year old daughter in first grade and a three year old son in preschool and in just 52 hours – I have realized how honestly poor my appreciation and understanding of motherhood – good motherhood – really was. And Bridget, the mother of my children – is really good at motherhood. The thing is, I knew that 52 hours ago. I knew she was amazing on so many personal, spiritual, longsuffering, and gut rending levels. But as to her mothering – I knew it at a Hallmark card cliché sort of level - a Focus on the Family 300 hundredth show on mothers for mothers about mothering level. Not the same thing as trying her pants on (you know what I mean) and walking around in them for 52 hours.
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