Growing Up


As you enter your high school years I have such mixed emotions.  I love the woman you are becoming:  compassionate, talented, intelligent, and beautiful.  I love that we are able to laugh, talk, and spend “real” time together.  I love that you still confide in me (as you see fit).  I love our inside jokes, our silly moments, and our unspoken bond.   There are still times, however, that I miss my spunky little girl:

You have had a mind of your own since the day you were born.  I know that there are many parents out there who will say the same thing, but I can tell you with all certainty that no one is quite like you.

I will never forget your first night in this world.  Your blood curdling screams brought the nurses running.  They thought that this first time mother didn’t know how to console a newborn.  They soon discovered, however,  that you were not hot, cold, hungry, tired, wet or needy.  You were just Kayla.  You expected perfection and would settle for nothing less.  I pray that you never let go of that instinct.

As a young mother I made (and continue to make) mistakes.  I expect too much or accept too little.   I demand instead of request.   I talk when I should listen.  I punish when I should protect.  I undermind when I should understand.

All I can tell you is that my journey is parallel to yours.  Everything I do comes from my fierce, unshakable, inexplicable, unconditional love for you. Every decision I make originates from my desire to protect you from all of the heartache I experienced.  Every lecture you hear was written on one of the thousand tears I shed.

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago I was you.  I was young, innocent, unstoppable, and invincible.  The world was my oyster and all I needed to do was pluck the pearl when I was ready.  I know you don’t believe me but I have pictures to prove it.

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I am shocked at what I see.  In my mind I am still the girl  in the photographs.  When did I become the responsible mother of 2 with crow’s feet, laugh lines, and thunder thighs?   When did I become someone who worries about curfews and carpools instead of clothing and cliques?

I think it was a gradual progression.  I think that with every day that you grew I was forced to grow along with you. I think that just as I have shaped who you are, you have shaped who I am.  I think that you have taught me more about myself than I could have ever learned on my own.

Somewhere along the way you changed from a chubby cheeked, curly haired, feisty little girl into a almond eyed, confident, influential young woman.

As hard as I try,  I know that I will never be able to protect you from all of the mistakes I made and all of the pain you will feel.  I need to accept that this is your journey, not mine.  I need to step back and allow you to experience the consequence of your choices…both good and bad.   I need to trust that I instilled in you the ability to distinguish between right and wrong.  But most of all, I need to hope that no matter what happens you know that you can come to me and trust that  I will guide you, understand you, and love you.

If I could tell you only one thing it would be this:

No matter what you think, say, want or do I will always love you.  Nothing could ever erase my love for you.





Filed under The Ones That Are Mine

7 responses to “Growing Up

  1. That is so touching. What a treasure, and what a lovely young woman you have!

  2. Pat

    Lovely, both the storyboards, the current shots, and especially the thoughts. She will cherish these, if not now, in a few years. LOVE the scotch tape shot!!!

  3. Lauren (MichyM)

    This is lovely, and she is a beautiful young woman!

  4. aww what a sweet post! Great pictures too!

  5. So sweet! Lovely pictures. 🙂

  6. She is beautiful! Great shots!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s