Tyler jumped out of the pool to throw up into my hand. And I caught it.

Yesterday, Tucker had too much hot dog in his mouth. He spit it out into my hand. And I caught it.

I believe this is a unique maternal ability, born along with the child. The fact that I am capable and willing to open my palm to what may come.

And all I seem to say is, “Oh, man, oh, buddy. What is this? What’s happening?”

And then I wash my hands.

I wonder if this unflappable instinct will always be present. I wonder if I will always catch first, ask later.

Motherhood confounds me.

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