One day, when my daughter reads this, she will get to know her dad. My words will paint her many a picture. My blog will tell her many a story. She will get to know him well.
She will also get to know me, her mother.
What kind of mother am I?
- The one that stops traffic to get her daughter’s balloon.
… I told her to hold it tight. She did until a second later she didn’t. Once we turned round the corner, she lost her grip and the strong wind took it away. Shouting ‘Don’t run into the street, stay here!’ I started running after the balloon. Looking back, it was tremendously funny. At that moment, it wasn’t. She was crying, and I was chasing the god damn balloon. The cars stopped (thankfully the traffic was not that heavy), the drivers smiled and nodded in understanding, and I managed to get hold of it. I felt like a hero. She stopped crying. I carried the balloon the rest of the way home…
- The one that asks a stranger for a tulip for her child.
… She’s been telling me for a while she only liked red and blue flowers (the courtesy of the Spider man). There were many beautiful flowers on the way to her kindergarten. Tulips were plenty as well. And my girl had to have a red one. Sure, I could have bought her one. But where is the fun in that? So we tried to find a tulip that belonged to no one, so we could just pick it up and take it home. Alas, all of them were fenced up – beautiful, but unattainable. Explaining that we always needed to ask, and take ‘no’ with the same grace, I asked an older lady pottering in her garden if she’d agree to give one rose to my daughter. ‘Only one?’, – the lady wanted to be sure. When I nodded, she asked: ‘Which one?’, this time addressing my daughter. My girl picked the biggest, most beautiful flower…
- The one that needs kisses and cuddles more that her daughter does.
… I fear the day she no longer wants to hold my hand…
- The one that smiles to herself when her daughter talks about her dad.
… ‘Mommy, I really want daddy’, – she says before falling asleep. ‘I know’, – I do know. ‘So he can put twins in your belly’, – she continues and I smile in the dark.
- The one that worries.
… ‘How can I protect her from all the bad in the world?’ – I ask. ‘Unfortunately, you can’t’, – he says. ‘But teach her values and be as real as you can.’
- The one that hopes ‘I love you’ never ends.
… ‘To infinity and back’ – is what I say. ‘To the moon… To all the houses… Always…’ – is what she says. ‘Mommy, I know everything ends. But our love will never end’…
- The one that never learned to be patient.
… ‘You need to make patience your friend’ sounded good when I read it to her, a little girl barely 2 years old. But what looks good on paper doesn’t necessarily work, for me, in real life…
- The one that lies sometimes.
… Before she was born I swore to myself I’d tell the truth and nothing but the truth. That was until her first tantrum. After that I believe little lies don’t hurt anybody and make life more peaceful for both of us…
- The one that believes in her beauty.
… No matter which way you look at her, inside and out, not doubt and 100%, she really, she truly is the most beautiful girl in the whole world.
- The one that feels grateful.
… The most blessed person on Earth, because I got her…
That’s me alright.