Why don't they talk to me and share their inner-most secrets? They use to when they were younger? Now that they are older, they have their own lives to which I often attempt to pry in order to be a part. Seems, though, that no matter how much prying or gentle prodding I might do - their openness seems to close just at that very moment when I'm feeling a break through.

I look or think about them in wonderment sometimes, hoping and praying that I have given them all that they need to be successful and happy. I am amazed that when I look at them, I still see the babies whose diapers I changed, cheeks I squeezed, toes I counted, and coos I so loved to hear. And I worry about you each and every day no matter how old they get. I know they think they are grown - but, they will forever remain my babies and therefore, it is my prerogative to worry and even pry.

I sometimes long just to hear the words that I am special to you and that you love me. I sometimes long to hear you say "Mamma, lets just hang out today - just us". I wish I could see spend more time with them like we use to. Or just sit around and jaw-jerk. I miss those days...those times. But, I just need to let them know that I'm here, that I'll always be here.

I love them both as only a mother can.

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