I wrote the following a few years back. Eight, to be precise. Eight years and a few days. Now this little bundle of joy is on the edge of 29. She’s a college graduate, working on her Master’s degree in social work. She’s in a happy and secure relationship. She’s got a circle of friends that is amazing. Her family adores her. She continues to be a complete joy to everyone who is lucky enough to be in her inner circle. As for me? I continue to be the proudest momma ever. This kid. She’s mine. My first born. I don’t know why I got so lucky, but I certainly did. So while it’s not a new post, it still rings true…
In 7 days, my first born baby girl turns 21. TWENTY ONE!!!! How in the blankety-blank has this happened?? And how did it happen so fast??? It seems like just yesterday that I was days overdue, anxiously awaiting the arrival of this little miracle who had resided so contently inside me for the past nine months. I didn’t know “its” name, didn’t know if I needed pink or blue, didn’t know if I was even remotely prepared to become a parent. But in spite of those unknowns, it did happen. And now here I sit, one week shy of 21 years later. In shock. But more than that,, in total and complete awe and admiration for the fabulous being that I (with some help!) brought into this world. Things have not been perfect for her, she’s had to work hard and overcome many obstacles, some of which were and are due to the choices of her parents, which she had no control over. But in spite of obstacles, she has remained loyal and amazing and loving and sees the good in all. And here is where that weird part of life begins. She’s a young woman. And yet, she’s still my baby. And I am her mommy. I was not the best mom, or the nicest mom, or the coolest mom. But above all, I was and I continue to be her mother. I have never tried to be her best friend, to buy her love, or to so completely cushion her from the world that she doesn’t have a clue as to how to take care of herself. I don’t “fix” things for her, I show her the way. I don’t buy her everything, I taught her how to work and how to save. I taught her how to scrub a toilet, and how to make deviled eggs. She shares my love of horses, and yet she is a far better rider than I will ever be. We don’t always see eye to eye,, she’s too much like me. But one of the best and most amazing things about my kid is that she never, ever forgets that I am the momma. She can, and will, disagree with me. She has yelled at me. She has called me names. She has called me on my own stuff. But at the end of the day, she recognizes that I never want anything but the best for her and even after a huge disagreement, I (without fail) end up with a call or a text or a physical snuggle and a “I love you, momma”. We don’t just put it all aside, we learn and grow and gain experience from these situations, making our relationship stronger and more,, real. So this whole thing is just to state how great my kid is. She is smarter than smart, self sufficient, tough, hard working, and funnier than anyone I know. Some of that she gets from me, some from her dad, some from others along the way, and a huge portion is just her. She will succeed in whatever she puts her mind to, she will be an amazing teacher, and she will remain a spectacular daughter and sister (real & step), granddaughter, niece, cousin, friend. She will laugh loudly and often. And she will continue to make me proud to say “THAT’S MY KID!” And, in all honesty,, a little bit of this is to pat myself on the back and say “Hey, momma! You did a good job!”
Have a great day everyone.