My mom is amazing. Yesterday, long after the last guest had left and my feet had pretty much given out under me - she was cleaning my kitchen, sorting through the leftovers, trash and dirty dishes from the graduation party. She was picking up the pieces of my often messy life - just as she's been doing for the last quarter century. My mom is amazing - have I told you that?

I'm not saying she's perfect. Heck, there's things I'll do different and things I'll mimic. There's things we can laugh at now - together - "What were you thinking!" That hairstyle! That discipline! That year! But the best part about having an imperfect yet amazing mother is that you hold out hope that you'll be just like her. That, in spite of your failings your kids will someday call you everytime something goes wrong. "HELP! THe baby has a cold!" "Help - I don't always GET my husband!" "Help, I NEED my floors scrubbed...."

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He's done. We're done.

It's hard to believe that today my husband finally gets his diploma. For our entire marriage (almost 5 years) he's worked hard to support us, be a good husband, be a good father, invest wisely, make good business choices, while, at the same time, taking college courses to finish his degree.

And today, finally, we're done.

Mixed emotion is the name of the game. Part of me finds itself incredibly relieved. Breathing a two ton sigh of relief - we're done! More time! Less papers! Less studying. More time... I keep joking (though somewhat mean it) that now that our rental house is full for a year and he's done with his degree he'll be back to JUST being a workaholic - how refreshing! He won't even know what to do with himself he'll have so much time. But the other side of me is almost mourning his graduation at 10am today. I feel like this thing, this pursuit of a degree, has been our joint venture. I've been his kick in the pants when he's been discouraged. We've been jointly proud at all of his successes. And many, many late nights have been spent, sitting side by side at the laptop, putting together the final sentences of a paper, proof-reading 60+ word documents until my eyes went crossed.

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I pray constantly that God will, somehow, grant my husband and I the ability to raise our sons to be godly, strong men.

Most days, because of my faith in a God who is MUCH more all-knowing than I (imagine!), I'm confident that my sons will turn out just fine.

But then there's days like today.

 "What are you doing?" I asked my almost-four-year-old as he raced back and forth down the hallway, pushing a dump truck in front of him.

"Taking this stuff to the dump."

I look into the back of the dumptruck and see the various body parts of Mr. Potato Head, now disassembled.

On days like today when the gravity of the responsibility placed on our shoulders hits me hard, I'm so thankful God has enough grace to cover us all.

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