Where is the love?
A song keeps playing in my head: 'Where's the love?' Indeed, where ís the love?! And is there enough of it going around?
So busy with living
Sometimes I'm so busy living, keeping the kids from killing themselves and each other, I forget about the love. It's hard to feel the love when they walk in with dirty feet after I just mopped the floor, or when they come whining to me: 'Mommy, he's looking at me the wrong way!' Then I don't think about the love. All I think about is how many hours I have to hold on till bedtime.
Ah, thére is the love
But once they're all tucked in and sleeping soundly, and I come and look at them, that's when I feel the love welling up in me. As do the worries and questionmarks whether I gave them enough of it.
Then I know the answer to the question of 'Where is the love'.
It got squashed but reality.
Luckily it always bounces back.
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