Last Night, My Son Rai:sed His Hand Aga:inst Me, But I Didn’t Cry. This Morning, I Spread Out My Best Tablecloth, Cooked Breakfast Like It Was a Celebration, and Waited.

That morning, sitting alone at a beautifully arranged table covered with an embroidered cloth and surrounded by untouched breakfast, I finally understood something I should have understood years earlier:

A mother can love her child with her whole heart.

And still demand better.

And sometimes, that is exactly what saves them both.

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