You are my daughter and I am your Mother

I was driving home this evening, with the windows down because it has been exceptionally warm for April. I glanced in my review mirror, but the car seat was empty. Tonight, was the first time I’ve been in the car without you in quite some time, and after realizing I was truly alone I started to think about these past few days because they have been busy and my mind has yet to catch up with them.

I kept watching the headlights of the cars passing in the distance dance along the median, and thought if I were to share these thoughts, I would be told I tend to I overthink things. However, for my daughter’s sake I hope that is the case. I’ve been home for the past few days, just being “mommy” and observing the interactions of others as they flow in and out of our home.

We had celebrated my daughter’s third birthday and the excitement radiated from her little body as she answered questions, stood for pictures, shared her toys, and tried to navigate the social dynamics that came with entertaining. The day required her to remember to use her manners and “kind” words, while also trying to understand babies are too young to share.

The following day Easter came and again I watched her stand and smile in clothes that were not conducive to playing. I watched her look inquisitively at grownups as they spoke in various tones and had conversations around her. Yet, she remained patient while trying not to rub her eyes because this was all too much.

So, when thinking about these days I realized even if it is not her birthday or Easter, it is preschool that requires her to navigate a classroom, make friends, and try and figure out other’s actions, and that is when my heart sunk. This horrible feeling took over my body because I realized at the end of the day, I often feel exhausted from the demands of being a “working mother” and tend to not be as patient as I should be when you begin to fall apart.

Yet, I am the adult, and I have had to navigate looks, share, and sit with negative comments for far longer than you have. I have tools you do not have yet. You are learning and when you come home you shouldn’t have to smile, but instead should be able to just breathe. You should just be you, and know your days are harder than mine, but you are loved. You are loved now, and you will forever be loved because you are the child, and I am the mother, you are learning, and I have learned so yes sweet girl your day was far more difficult than mine.