“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.’