Motherhood: The Art of Letting Go

Get gut-punched by all the feels.


Thismorningmyfirstbornchild,theOG ofBraunbabies,theheartofmyheart,pulledoutofthedrivewayanddrovetoschoolBY HIMSELF.

Two and a half miles. But it may as well have been a million. Or at least 500 because #80schild. In the seconds that it took for that little red Nissan Kicks to back down what felt like the shortest driveway everrrrr, 16 years of motherhood flashed before my eyes.

My favorite baseball player

I learned early on in the mama game that #muthahood is fundamentally a series of letting go. And there are approximately zero things that I can control or hold on to as a mother. From sleepless babies to stubborn toddlers to “self-sufficient” kids to sullen teenagers, I am always shaping and shepherding and encouraging and influencing, but never truly in control. I am constantly letting go.

Back when I was the tallest. It’s fine. I’m fine.

Being a mother demands an extraordinary amount of trust. Trust that what falls down will get back…

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