It’s not always how you might imagine.
I think cupcakes are very effective. But not as effective as sharing stories of failure.
Admitting we don’t have it altogether and that some days motherhood makes us feel just plain inadequate on every level. Showing our scars and the stories behind them. More importantly confiding how we emerged and lived to tackle another day.
Laughing. Loud and long and late into the night.
Stopping in the middle of everything – boiling over potatos and hamburgers on the grill – to really, truly listen to something a son is trying to share.
Letting a friend cry without shame for as long as she needs to – with you.
And cupcakes. Always with the cupcakes.
OK, your turn.