Sometimes i look at the kids and i see chris and i see myself and i see these tiny little mirrors reflecting back all the things we are all the good and all the bad the tantrums the laughter the way my daughter scrunches her nose when she's thinking really hard just like i do and it's beautiful and terrifying because i know they're watching me and i know i'm screwing it up somehow i'm not patient enough i'm not present enough i'm always thinking about the laundry or the dishes or the next thing and i wonder if they can see it can they see the cracks can they see that i'm not whole i'm just a collection of pieces barely holding together but then they smile at me this pure unadulterated love and i think maybe maybe it's enough maybe my broken pieces are enough for them right now and i wonder if that's enough for me too if i can just accept that i'm not perfect and that's okay it has to be okay because i don't know how to be anything else it's just winter now so everything is bare, everything is broken and grey.