Daughters Quote

Our daughters are the most precious of our treasures, the dearest possessions of our homes and the objects of our most watchful love.
— Margaret E. Sangster

Comparisons

Last night my cousin brought over her two-week old baby boy for me to babysit.  He is such a precious little thing.  I haven’t held a baby that age since my daughter.  I’ve never been confident in myself to hold babies.  My daughter was different, but every other child is like that.

My cousin is like my sister.  We grew up together even though I am 8 years older than her.  This little guy is like my nephew, and I love him to pieces.

I was sitting in my lazy boy, rocking and feeding him.  I got this overwhelming feeling of content.  This little human, just barely two weeks old, is a clean slate.  He hasn’t had any trauma, he hasn’t been abused, he hasn’t had his adult personality and emotional make-up decided yet.

I often looked at my daughter this way, and still do.  By the time I was her age, I was already really messed up.  I had lost my mother, been abused by my father, and I was on my way to yet another abusive household with my grandmother.  God, I am so damn thankful that she is growing up in a more stable environment.  She has ample amounts of love from her father and I, and although I know that I can’t protect her from everything, I do know that I have the largest influence on how she lives.

I may be taken before my time, but if that happens, my husband will be the best father he can be.  If something should happen to the both of us, I already have a plan for her.  It wouldn’t be easy for her, but she would be in the best place she could be with counselling and loving family to help her through it.

Life is so unpredictable.  I worry so much about her emotional state of being.  I worry about things happening at school that I can’t prevent.  It’s silly, but I am her mother, one of only two people in the world who’s duty it is to protect her at all costs.  I ask her about her day and can pick up immediately when her demeanor changes in the slightest.  She’s comfortable enough with me that she can tell me anything, and I hope it is always so.

I love watching her grow up.  I compare her to how I was at her age all the time.  I can say, with full confidence, that I am doing a great job with her.  She is so different from me.  She is out-going, happy, loving and fiercely independent.  That compared to the timid and terrified child I was.

She also has a glow about her.  When she walks into a room, everyone seems to light up.  I know I am biased because she is my angel, but I truly feel this and can see it in everyone she meets.  My family loves spending time with her because she’s so fantastic a kid.  On the weekends, our phone is ringing off the hook from her friends and cousins wanting her to spend the night with them.  She is a shining light at school as well.

Ok, enough bragging.  It’s just so strange and wonderful to me that she is turning out so wonderfully happy and stable.  My only comparison is my own childhood, so I continue to be amazed by her.

I hope I always am.