The Girl Who Made Me Mama


Right before 6 AM our door squeaked open and I heard her little feet, tiptoetiptoetiptoe, and the rattlerattlerattle of a white paper bag decorated with a yellow handprint daisy. And around to my side of the bed came the footsteps and stopped, pause, right in front of my face. And then she waited. And I played possum and wondered how long she’d wait. How many little paper pops that bag would make before she EXPLODED with anticipation.

It didn’t take long.


I smiled, opened my eyes. She was thisclose to my face.

She climbed up, edged herself into a chink of bed beside my legs and there she sat, fiddling with the top of the bag, open-it-a-little, shut-it-back, open-it-a-little.

MAMA YOU HAVE TO OPEN THIS NOW! Her fingers still tripping each other – fighting her enormous and overwhelming desire to rip the bag open and fling the contents into my hands.

Will you open it for me, honey? I asked her, still smiling.

The bag was open and the little glass candle in its holder was one inch from my nose before I got the last syllable of honey out.

And it is beautiful. I saw one just like it in my neighbor’s kitchen windowsill right after Mothers Day last year, and I coveted it. It’s a baby food jar covered in pink and blue tissue paper. My kitchen windowsill has been preening itself for this candle and holder for one full year. I felt how badly she wanted to open that bag then, as I was just as desperate to throw her off of me, run down the stairs to the kitchen and blind the sun itself with the bright, glowing beauty of my Mother’s Day gift.

I fidgeted. Set my candle down and stroked my daughter’s cheek. Thank you, my baby, for making me a Mama.

You’re welcome, she giggled.

It is soul-soothing to see and know this one person in all the world who truly loves me, faults and all — and she has seen me, faults and all, probably more than any other person in my life.

Later in the morning my candle sat in the sunny windowsill. We lingered together at the breakfast table, my kids, my husband and I. She was eating a cinnamon swirl roll blissfully when all of a sudden she tossed her fork down and climbed out of her chair with purpose.

That’s enough of that! she said, while simultaneously striding around the table.

I need my BIG sweet roll! she exclaimed, and threw her arms around me.

9 Responses to The Girl Who Made Me Mama
  1. Stephanie
    May 10, 2010 | 7:48 am

    Oh! You’re so right. They love us unconditionally. I am working on remembering this more every day.


  2. Kelly
    May 10, 2010 | 3:26 pm

    This is so sweet, Megan. No wonder we love being Mamas.

  3. Hannah
    May 10, 2010 | 10:58 pm

    This is an absolutely lovely post. And your daughter sounds like a gem.

    But. Not to completely shallow? But oh what I would give to look like that when I first wake up in the morning! Pictures of me sitting up in bed at first light will never, never make it onto the internet … for good reason. 🙂

    You two make a beautiful pair!

  4. Jenn
    May 11, 2010 | 2:55 pm

    I’m with Hannah, you look fantastic in the morning! Pre-shower photos of me just don’t exist. Not as far as the internet is concerned anyway! 🙂

    Love this entry, it’s so very you.

    Also? Bean’s pajamas are awesome! xoxo

  5. Mari
    May 11, 2010 | 6:10 pm

    Such a sweet post! And it’s another picture of you looking oh, so cute in the morning. If you weren’t so sweet, I might have to start resenting you!

  6. jenn
    May 17, 2010 | 12:21 pm

    awwwwwwwww so very sweet !

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