The Empty Arms of A Mother

Right now my arms are full. Full of pudgy cheeks, dimpled fingers, hair needing brushed, blankies, and sippy cups. Full of lap sitters, bedtime snugglers, and slow-to-wake-uppers. It’s a funny thing, motherhood. Every mother begins her journey with empty arms. Once that precious baby (then the next, and the next) fills up our arms, our entire role as mother is …