With the kid, you never know what’s going to set him off, so I have to be prepared for “the good fight” all the time.

Irate passion, anger, a flaming-hot temper — all of these traits run deep in my blood, a family inheritance. Sadly, I’ve been the kid on the receiving end. Worse still, I’ve been the mom doling them out like veggie portions at dinner.

Being the mom of this kid has taught me to reach higher, dig deeper and cling to love (and all of of its attributes) like my life depends on it – because it does, and well, his does too.

And so does our world. Feeding on love, heaping it onto my child, breeds positivity that affects our sphere of influence, our world.

And so, to me “the good fight” starts at home, in my heart, at the precipice of choice. It’s rooted in love and soaked in patience. It’s a struggle against the norm, a generational challenge, a journey on the road less traveled, if you will.

It’s realizing that instead of starting the day fussing and fighting about getting out of bed, getting angry over inaction and fighting every step of the way…maybe it’s a day to hit snooze and take the few extra minutes to sleep it off. To snuggle. To whisper funny things to each other and giggle. To offer additional support to still get out of the house in time.

I want to save my energy for “the good fight,” because it builds up, it plants seeds, it fosters love.