I proudly told the hygienist today that I'm finally a flosser and after she high-fived me, she asked what changed.  Easy.  That two year old who is brushing his chompers next to me, that's what changed.  If I want him to be a flosser, I have to be one too.  And that right there is why motherhood has been so sanctifying.  If I want him to speak with a kind voice, I need to also.  If I want him to be a good listener, to talk to The Father, to say thank you and to fight the fusses, I have to lead the way.  Even when it is March.  Even when winter has been here for ninety-eight years.  Even when we have not been to a city in ages and the snow is piling past the fence, and the baby has been sick for weeks.

Even then.  So I'll just be over here, grudgingly flossing my teeth and praying for the grit to parent these two well.  While it snows and snows and snows and snows some more.