My baby girl is 10 today. Double digits, if you will.
I have no idea how we got here. To be honest, I think I remember the first 11 months of her life and then from that point on I was too up to my eyeballs in pregnancy, babies, nursing and diapers to remember much else until now. Okay, that's probably not true, I remember a lot; but part of what I remember is that I needed this little girl to become much older, much quicker than she probably would have had she been born into a typical 2.5-children-and-a-dog type family. There might be some truth to the fact that I have some mommy guilt about that. And about not being able to give this precious girl a little sister to pour all of her gushing, feminine, emotional and maternal heart into. Oh how the mommy guilt over that weighs heavy. But her birthday also means that I've been on this journey of motherhood for a decade now and one thing I've learned for certain is that the guilt (and angst and uncertainty and longing to do better) is kinda just part of the gig.
I've spent the last 10 years waiting to turn in to the kind of mom I pictured myself being.
The kind of mom that I strapped onto my exterior for probably the first 2-3 years before all the weight of it finally came crashing down all around me and I had to face the facts that this was no role one could try to hold their breath through. I think I honestly believed at one point that if I tried hard enough I could stay ahead of every single developmental stage and behavior and attitude and phase; maneuvering them gracefully with all the wisdom, patience and intentionality of a mom other moms want to ask advice from. So every failure felt so hurtful, so disappointing, so shameful. I'm not sure why I thought that I could begin this job already knowing exactly how I was going to do it, who I would and wouldn't be like, what I would and wouldn't do. I'm not sure how I didn't realize that such an obvious aspect of being a mom would be learning and growth...and therefore failing and stretching and changing (and looking like an absolute mess a lot of the time because of it) would kind of just come with the territory. But somehow I did and it caused so much heartache for me early on.
As I sit here this afternoon prepping party plans for my daughter's big 10 yr old sleepover party. I can't help but reflect on how similar she and I are. See, my Macy Grace doesn't want to admit that she has much to learn either. I told you I needed her to get big and helpful like super duper fast. And boy did she rise to the challenge. But jumping into those 'oldest kid' shoes, also splashed a whole bunch of people pleasing and need for approval all over her sweet little self. And I can tell the idea of not measuring up, not being everything she expects herself to be weighs heavy on those 10 yr old shoulders of hers. She's so much like her mama it sometimes hurts to watch.
Because of this, you'd think heading into the teens years with her would terrify me. But I'm done being fearful. I'm sure I'm a little naive, it's kind of my MO apparently, but I'm actually really excited. Because I've seen what happens to a heart when it is so afraid of failure that it claws and clings and fights not to experience it. See, it might struggle for a moment, but when it finally can't hold it's head above water any longer; that's when the hands go up in surrender. No more performing, no more running after perfect pictures, no more desperate hope that someone or something else is going to give you that sense of satisfaction you're looking for.
And that's when the freedom rushes in.
It's in the surrender, the laying down of all those false hopes, that real Life gets found. Acceptance is the sweetest when we stop trying to earn it. Grace is only tasted when we know we know we don't deserve it.
I walk this path daily. And the older my daughter gets, the more excited I get to walk it with her as well. I get to be the soft place where she falls. I get to point her to the One who needs nothing from her but offers her everything she needs. I know this journey well, and as I watch her growing, changing, becoming this tiny version of a full blown adult right before my eyes; I know she's already taking baby steps down it herself. And it fills me with wonder and humility and gratitude.
She is kind. She is smart. She is empathetic and lovely and stubborn as all get out. She is helpful and hilarious, she is emotional and thoughtful. She is sensitive, she is passionate, she is prideful and she is insecure. She's both needy and fiercely independent at the same time. She's delightful. And she's mine.
I can't believe I get to learn about being a mom while she learns about being a woman. What a gift she is to me. My Macy Grace.
Happiest Birthday sweetheart.
Love Mom.
