“Mommy? Can you please help me get this dress on Ariel? I
can’t get it,” said my little six-and-a-half-year-old girl. She’s not unhappy,
she’s not whining, not frustrated. She just needs a little bit of my help with
this darn doll dress. And she called me ‘Mommy.’
Eden is getting bigger every second it seems. She doesn’t
need me to read to her anymore, she can bathe herself, dress herself, brush her
own hair. She can come up with some rad beyond belief outfits that are way
cooler than anything I could pull off. She is doing awesome in swim lessons and
I’m being completely sincere when I say she’s a much better swimmer than I am. She
is halfway through first grade and she’s absolutely thriving. I love it.
But there are little flashes every once in a while where she
still needs her mommy. She can’t quite get her doll dressed. She isn’t totally
sure which loop goes where on her shoelaces. She can’t quite figure out the
right peanut butter to jelly ratio. And then she calls for me. Because when you
just can’t quite get it, you want
your mommy.
I want my girls to be strong. Independent. Capable. I want
them to be able to take care of themselves because sometimes that’s just what
you have to do. But I also want them to know that I will always be their mommy.
The person they can call when they just need a little help. I love being there
for them now, and I can’t wait to hear their voices on the other end of the
line when they get older. “Mom, how long do I boil chicken?” “Mom, what do I do
in this situation?” “Mom, I’m so tired and this baby won’t stop crying!” I want
to be that call.
So I will answer their ‘mommy’ calls now. Because in just a
few years, I want them to know they can ‘just call Mom.’
