Monday, March 1, 2010

Nearly a Decade of Mothering You

While today is the actual day on which you emerged from me nine years ago, in a few short months we'll have been together for ten years.  A whole decade!

Ten years ago today I had absolutely no clue as to your existence, darlin'. 

Yet, just 4 short months later I became aware of the fact that you'd made yourself quite at home in my womb, where you would reside for the next nine months.  Those months were full of wondering.  Wondering who you would be.

Boy or girl?  Ultrasounds were not yet routine expenses for our insurance, so we didn't know the answer to this one until you were born.

Who will s/he look like?

Whose temperament will s/he tend towards?

What characteristics of his/her own will s/he develop?

Et. cet. er. a.

Over the years, you've answered these questions.  Some are yet to be seen.

You are most assuredly my "I hope you have a child just like you someday," child - inside and out.  When you were 2, you would look at pictures from my toddlerhood and despite a difference in our hair colors, you would insist, "There's me!" and rightly so.  But the resemblances don't end there.  I look at you and regularly catch glimpses of the inner workings of my own brain as a child; bossy, kind, quick to correct mistakes before you, sensitive to what's going on around you, penchance for eavesdropping on adult women's conversation - desperately longing to be part of it, and so much more.

But then there's this other essence that you possess that is simply you.  Kelsey.

Physically, you are beautiful, much more attractive than I was.  That's not Mama being self-deprecating, and it's not me being biased about your appearance, either - it's just what it is.  You're gorgeous now, at an age when kids start to get awkward, and I just pray that God helps me to grow a spirit of beauty within you that far outshines and outlasts the captivating physical facade with which you will inevitably be adorned in your future.  Also - that the boys whom you are around during your teen years will all be struck blind. 

Your heart, though, is what matters most to me.  Some days, girl, I honestly do NOT understand the things you say/do and WISH that I could get inside your head.  But mostly, I see you growing up and desiring to serve others more each day.  You are so good with your brothers and it is a joy to my heart to see you help and encourage them.  However, may I remind you now, as I do several hundred times a week, that they do in fact already have a mother and you need not play that role? 

You have so many gifts and talents, chica!  This year you have grown by leaps and bounds in your musical pursuits and I love watching your inner star emerge.  Your artistry remains a key part of your identity and has made the leap from visual media into your writing as well.  You're a creative kiddo for sure, and I love to see and hear the things that you come up with.  And physically, when you ran the quarter-mile fun-run at the Sweetheart race, I could see you running the distance in the future.   You've got a great stride with those long legs of yours!  We'll have to run more together this spring and summer, kay? 

I think my heart has broken more mothering you than it has with the boys, to date.  Knowing you, knowing myself and how similar we are grants an intimacy that some mothers and daughters don't have.  I know how hard things hit you, how intense things seem in the moment, and I can only tell you that those feelings, good or bad, don't always stay the course in their intensity.  I hope that on days when you're down, you will hear me echoing that statement - you will get past those feelings, they will not be forever.  And on days when you're tempted to throw caution to the wind because you're in love/on top of the world/fill in the blank, I pray that you remember what is important and longer lasting than whatever you are feeling in the moment; your walk with God.

You know I could go on, love.  I get to rambling and then everything is fair game.  But I have to reign it back in and focus....

Happy 9th birthday, Kelsey.  I hope that this year is a good one for you.  I love you more than you could ever imagine, despite what you must think at times.


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1 comment:

  1. From one Red-Headed Step-Child to another, We are all this way!
    Love the post!