Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who dreamt of having a child. There were days when it seemed that it would never happen, but they kept hoping and praying that one day, they would hear cries in the middle of the night…cries for them.

And one day…they did.

And I still can’t believe that you are real. That you are my child. That you call me mommy.

But you do. It’s real.

So, I want you to know how grateful I am and how my breath catches by some of the littlest things. I am a mom to a little girl and these are the things I treasure:

• Little yellow rain boots by the back door
• Crumbs in the back seat of the car
• Monster High stickers on my coffee table
• Rocks in my purse
• A refrigerator covered in drawings
• Saturday mornings when I don’t get to sleep in
• Katy Perry blasting in the car
• Rocks on the kitchen table
• A chair for one, that now squeezes in two
• Spontaneous dance parties
• Weekly trips to the library, loaded down with books
• Long blonde hair in my hairbrush
• Knock Knock jokes that don’t make sense
• Rocks next to my bed
• A bathroom cabinet filled with cotton balls and leaves for the fairies
• Chalk on the sidewalk
• Cartoons on the TV
• Chasing down the ice cream truck
• Kisses that work like medicine
• The tiny toothbrush next to the sink
• Glitter….everywhere
• Smiles that change with new teeth
• The endless stream of “mommy…mommy…mommy”

When you are wishing for a child, it’s these little things that you dream of. Many of these “annoying” things are the greatest gifts I could ever imagine.

For my birthday last year, my husband bought me my first Prada bag. It is now filled with rocks, colorful band-aids, and sugar packets.

And I couldn’t be happier.

Image by Rob MacEwen

The post The Little Things That Take My Breath Away appeared first on Advice for My Daughter.

The post The Little Things That Take My Breath Away appeared first on Advice for My Daughter.

I was heading to bed the other night and went into your room first to kiss you goodnight, like I always do. And you were sound asleep…and absolutely perfect.

I watched you for a while. I smiled. I remembered. I wished. I prayed.

And I turned to walk out.

Then I came back and climbed in next to you. I looked at your eyes gracefully moving beneath closed eyelids and imagined where your dreams were taking you. I imagined where life may take you.

I looked at your little hands…your face, untouched by the stresses of life…your legs splayed out in exhaustion from a day full of playing.

And it hurt.

Every mother knows the hurt I’m talking about. It’s not joy. It’s not sadness. If I had to guess where its roots lie, I would have to say that it is gratitude magnified to the point where it burns.

Your heart grows too big…and it hurts.

I lied next to you for quite a while thinking about how proud I am of you and how kind you are. I think of the hundreds of nights I sat in my own bed silently wishing for you and the magical day when my wish was granted.

My wish was granted, and her favorite color is blue. She likes to sing. She fills my purse with rocks and crayons. She hugs me better than anyone in the world.

My wish has a name. My wish has a body. My wish calls me mommy.

My wish is lying right here dreaming her own dreams.

And, yes, it hurts to look in the eyes of an answered prayer.

Thank you is so very small, but I say it anyway, because I don’t know what else to say. (tweet this)

What else do you say when prayers become people and wishes become wonder?

[thank you]

Image by Susana Fernandez

The post The Hurt That Every Mother Knows appeared first on Advice for My Daughter.

The post The Hurt That Every Mother Knows appeared first on Advice for My Daughter.