Oh Little Girl,
The sun does not wake me most mornings. No, most mornings it is you. You tip-toe across the room and climb under my covers. You snuggle your tiny frame until you’ve made me your perfect pillow. There we will fall back asleep; you, on my chest and I, dreaming the sweetest of dreams.
At night, when I tuck you in, “Lay wif me” is your simple request. So the dishes wait and I place my head on the Minnie Mouse pillow next to your blonde curls. As we sing “Jesus Loves Me” I know you think we are singing for you, but Little Girl, I think He must love me most. He has to, because I have you.
As I close your bedroom door, I offer a simple, “I love you.” Without moving even a tiny little finger, you tell me you love me too. Oh, but I don’t stop, “I love you to the moon.” This time, you lift your head, smile at me and say, “I love you more.”
There I leave it. I close the door. I walk back into the living room where your daddy is sitting and brag that our daughter loves ME the most. Being the gentleman he is, he lets me relish this feeling. This true love feeling. And then, because he is too competitive to let me have it all to myself, he smirks, “for now.”
For now, at age two, you cry the instant I put on my shoes. “I wanna go wif you, Mommy.”
For now, you give lots and lots of kisses. With, or without request.
For now, I tell you you’re beautiful and you freely accept my compliment. Even offering, “You so pretty Mommy,” as you stroke my face.
When I am (finally) taking my long awaited hot shower, I hear the pitter of tiny feet running down the hall. I know in an instant it’s you. The door opens, and in you jump.
You insist I watch. Over and over, I watch you on that beat-up princess truck. Your legs lifted in the air, your curls waving behind you. “Watch me mommy.” Again and again, down the driveway you fly.
I wish time could freeze on this moment. I wish I always knew I’d open the door and I’d hear that squeaky little voice yell “Mommy!” as a fluttering little princess jumps in my arms.
For now, Little Girl, I am your very best friend. Please remember you love me this much.
Someday you won’t freely give those kisses, those hugs, those words of affirmation.
Someday you won’t accept my compliments, or my company.
Someday you will realize I wear mom jeans and drive a mini van and basically have a degree in uncool-ology.
Right now, today, I screw up. But you don’t see it. Someday you will.
Someday, maybe not that far from now, you’ll learn that I am just another imperfect person trying to find her way.
I hope in those moments where you see me, your mommy, through a more jaded lens, that you remember. You remember I watched. You remember I welcomed. You remember I hugged and I squeezed and I was always there.
But more, I hope you remember, that you too hugged and squeezed and kissed. You played. You loved me MORE.
For now, it’s easy. Gosh it’s so easy.
Little Girl, you are and will forever be my little ladybug. My Sunshine. My friend. I love you to the moon! Don’t ever forget that.
3 thoughts on “Dear Daughter, Remember You Love Me”
Enjoyed very much.