As a mom, I look back over the last 18 years and celebrate the tiny moments that mean the most. Playing pirate ships make believe when our king-sized bed floated amidst the waves of gators and whales. Planting one strawberry bush with my boy that magically produced the most lovely homegrown strawberry known to man. The time my son heard me say I feel a draft in here and ran into my arms for comfort, thinking I had said, I see a giraffe.  
That night that his father decided to shave off his beard and he streamed in horror yelling, THAT’S NOT MY DADDY! WHERE IS MY DADDY?” We had to show him a photo of his father placed right up against his daddy’s cheek to show him the before and after resemblance to reassure him. That God it worked. Sure all the tiny triumphs relating to his cleft surgeries could count but those where Big Triumphs if you ask me. Heroes are brave like that to endure so much, not little boys. Times flew by but the memories and photos remind me that the tiny triumphs are what made our lives truly rich. The cleft challenges helped us grow and triumph in spirit. Together they make the quilting of our lives.

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