Last night Miss L. and I ran to the grocery store at the last minute before dinner. I made a quick decision to grab her dress and headband off of the hook by the door as we were leaving. I figured I might be able to get a few sweet pictures of her among the gorgeous redbud trees that are blooming everywhere. She was in a very questionable mood, had no nap, and was being more than a bit sassy in the store, but I was determined to try.
I’m so glad I did.
You know, being a mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever attempted to do. I’m convinced I’m doing it wrong half the time, question every decision I make, and wonder if I’m going to mess it up. But I really need to stop, take a deep breath, and realize that if I love her as much as I do, kiss her as much as I do, and squeeze her as much as I do, then I can’t really screw it up that bad, right? As Mother’s Day is drawing near, I’d like to write a post to my daughter:
I love you, L.
I love the way you pick me flowers (even the dandelions). I love the way you think you’re being sneaky (even though you are clearly up to no good!)
I love the way you sing silly songs and say goofy things. I love how smart you are. I love the way you pile on jewelry just to go to the babysitter’s house. I love how determined you can be.
I love the way you call me a “broccoli nose” and then laugh like it’s the funnies thing you’ve ever heard. I love the way you make up stories about an imaginary friend named “Gloria” from “dance class“….Gloria?! Where on earth did you hear that name?
I love the way you start dancing around every time you hear music. I love the way you love Katy Perry’s song, “Baby You’re a Firework”.
But most of all, my sweet girl, I love you because you are mine.