Little Girls and Their Mommas

“You’re a mean momma!” She shouted as she pushed her tiny thirty pound body away from mine.

They were hurtful words, but I knew she didn’t mean them. I mean, she did, but… she didn’t really.

On this day, I wouldn’t let her have another juice box before bed.

“Sister. Momma doesn’t want you to have an accident in bed while you sleep. You cannot have another juice box right now. But we CAN have one tomorrow morning during breakfast if we don’t throw a fit about it tonight.” She wasn’t buying my nodding head and exaggerated smile. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure all she heard was “blah blah blah NO blah blah blah YOU’RE NOT GETTING YOUR WAY blah blah blah you can begin crying now.”

Because that is exactly what she did. Her knees to her chest, her face in her hands, with tears from a broken heart pouring down her face – she cried. I knew that she was overtired. I knew she didn’t really want to be upset about a juice box. She doesn’t normally throw fits, and she doesn’t ever say hurtful words. But her emotions were bigger than she could manage… and it all led to this moment on the kitchen floor.

She wanted to be alone, but she needed to be held.

She wanted to be upset, but she needed to feel loved. And I could have walked away. It would have been so easy after the long day that I had… and she needed to learn her lesson after all… But I made a choice instead. I sat down right next to her… and I waited.

And after a few minutes, without any warning, she crawled into my lap, wrapped her arms around my neck, and began to cry into my sweater.

And there on the kitchen floor, I whispered into her hair, “Momma is not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’ve gotcha.” And while my words stopped, my heart continued to say, “If you’re sad or hurt or ashamed. If you’re lost or scared or confused. Whether you love or just tolerate or cannot stand me – I’m not going anywhere. I will be waiting right here to scoop you up and hold you close.”

And it is true…

When she goes to school and the other girls aren’t so kind.

When she begins to turn into a young woman and suddenly the world doesn’t make any sense

When she screams that she hates me for not letting her stay out late with her friends, or go to the party that is so important, or wear or do or be things that she would regret latter.

When she sets off to find out who she is and should she get lost along the way.

As she discovers her purpose and her passions, and as she turns into the woman that God has created her to be.

When the relationship ends with the one that she thought she loved, as she finds and marries the one that she truly loves.

And on the day that she becomes Momma too.

I will be right next to her through all of it just like I was on the kitchen floor.

And someday, when that precious little girl of her own begins to cry, she will find herself choosing to stay and sitting down and waiting for her own little love to crawl into her lap… and in that moment, the thought of me will be with her there too.

Because that is the story of little girls and their mommas.



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Save a Little Love For Me

He grabs his boots, or his briefcase, or his suitcase – and He’s headed off to work.

She’s busy making breakfast for the little ones already awake. The cereal spills across the kitchen floor just as the baby monitor lights up. Someone else needs her too.

She pours milk into the bowl, steps over the mess, and as she walks towards the nursery she shouts over her shoulder, “LOVE YOU! Have a great day, honey!”

He knows there will be so much demanded of her. He knows that she will spend every ounce of who she is taking care of the house and the babies and the bills. She won’t get a break or get to stop worrying, or caring, or planning all day. He knows that she will be exhausted when he walks back through that door, but his hope is the same day after day.

As she disappears around the corner, he whispers under his breath, “Save a little love for me.”

For the nurse and the coach, for the teacher and the banker, for the clerk and the pastor –

For each of us, our hope is the same.

May we never pour out so much of ourselves that we don’t have anything left to give our spouse at the end day. May we never forget the love that was so abundant in the beginning. And may we never lose sight of forever.

A simple reminder from the ones that we love, and to the ones that we love –

No matter how you will spend your day,

Just save a little love for me.




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Only Good Mommies…

I used to think that good mommies were a group of women that did everything right.

You know. Good mommies don’t yell. They have endless patience. Good mommies balance life at home and work and every other group/organization they or their kids are a part of. Good mommies have clean houses and do crafts and they always always enjoy every moment of being around their children.

Good mommies don’t work… or do work… but whatever they choose to do, they never run out of energy. They are always ready for whatever comes next. And they do it with joy.

And their children never cry, or get bored, or eat cheese sticks and crackers as a suitable dinner.

But I have learned something in my short few years of being a mommy.

Those things and attitudes… sure, they are good. But they don’t make me a good mommy.

That mom that you think has it all together? She probably yelled this morning, or grabbed socks from the dirty hamper, or handed her kids a bag of mini oreos to eat for breakfast on the way to school. And you know, I bet that she struggles with the same feelings you do.

Because even the best mommies get it wrong sometimes. Even the best mommies fall behind, feel like they are letting everyone down, and struggle with feeling completely inadequate in their own homes.

Yes. There are good mommies. But they aren’t made by the lists of things they do or don’t do.

Good mommies are the women who keep loving, keep trying, and keep pouring out their hearts day after day.

And that, my dear, is most certainly you.

May these words remind you, that God knew exactly what He was doing when He gave you those sweet kids. And may you walk in the assurance that today is another day that you are a good mommy.




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