Being a girl mom is the sweetest thing, at least in my opinion. I often think about the moments I didn’t get to have with my own mom when I was little. She was a single mom raising four kids on her own. When we moved to Pennsylvania, we had no family and very little help. She carried that move by herself and built a life for us the best way she knew how.
I once read something that stayed with me. It said: I don’t want my kids to remember me as the strong mom or the mom who was always working. I want them to remember me as the mom who was available. Present. Running in the park. Active. Emotionally steady.
I wish I could slow time down. I catch myself getting wrapped up in things that feel so small and unimportant compared to what really matters, like playing hide and seek after my daughter has asked me a hundred times.
Daughters are always watching. How you move. How you handle hard moments. How you treat others, and what you allow in return. They make you want to do better, because you don’t want them to carry your own shortcomings.
Daughters are a gift from God.
