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Seven Going on 13

Seven Going on 13

Seven years ago I finally got to meet the first punk who ever had the opportunity to live in my belly. It was hands down, the best day of my life. She started off dramatic (my water broke at work and I was stuck in the bathroom for no less than 20 minutes because I had no idea what in the hell to do and I may, or may not, have panicked) and it hasn’t stopped since then.

Yesterday she had one of her biggest meltdowns ever. It was one of those where you have to walk away, lock yourself in your bedroom, and hold a pillow over your head just so you don’t lose your shit kind of meltdowns. It was loud and ugly. And exhausting for both of us. When she had finally pulled herself together I held her on my lap and cried into the top of her blond little  head. Underneath that meltdown was a little girl who was hurting and didn’t know how to tell me. And it broke my heart for her because I know how painful it is to not have the words to say “I am hurting”.

I want to be her safe place. The person that no matter what is going on, she knows she can turn to and trust. I don’t want her to grow up holding in all of the emotions that go with growing up, which if you’re over the age of 25, you know can be overwhelming and painful, intense and sometimes downright smothering. I need her to know that she can trust me to listen, give advice when she wants it and sometimes when she doesn’t, to be a sounding board for her life. At seven I don’t expect her to understand this but it doesn’t make it any less important for me to tell her.

She is full of emotion (much like myself), explosive, determined, charismatic, full of spirit and life, smart and funny. I see so much of myself in this little girl that even when she can’t tell me why she’s crying or pissed off I get it. Because sometimes life just sucks, even when your seven and it’s because your mom confiscated your brand new American Girl doll because you told her she’s a monster and no one in the world likes her. I didn’t bother to tell her that’s complete bullshit – that maybe I can be a bitch but only when necessary and there are a lot of people who like me and I CAN PROVE IT SO THERE – I just took the doll because sometimes you have to hit ‘em where it hurts.

She is a piece of me. Woven deeply through my soul with chains that will forever hold us together. Her pain is my pain and will always break my heart, her joy will forever utterly complete and fulfill me to my core. It has always been this way and I know it will always be as such.  I’m eternally grateful for this gift of life I’ve been blessed with that is a piece of me. I love this girl so deeply that it feels as though I have loved her my whole life and it’s hard to remember my heart before her.

Happy #7 to the girl who has forever changed the woman I am and who has given my life more purpose than I ever dreamed possible. The girl who reminds me that even when the shit has hit the fan you just have to turn the music up and dance. The girl that has taught me to live my life fearlessly, to love deeply and freely without reservations, and that when things fall apart a good meltdown is all you really need to pull your shit together.

Emmerson Lee, you are the best piece of me and I will forever love you sweet girl.

2013-07-17 21.01.11

One Comment

  • Anonymous on Aug 10, 2013 Reply

    That’s Awesome! You rock mama!

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