I loved my mom deeply growing up; she was and continues to be the most supportive person in my life, my best friend. But I didn’t worship her in the way I imagine other girls might have worshiped their mothers growing up.
When it came my turn to be a mother, I knew I wanted to be like my own mom—tough, with high expectations and slightly terrifying. But I wanted to be more glamorous.
I wanted my daughter to look at me and think I was fabulous and beautiful or at the very least polished and put together.
And then God gave me back to back boys. I very quickly realized that my children would probably never think of me as fabulous but would instead think of me as mostly unkempt and cranky but good for hugs.
After tackling the learning curve of how to be a boy mom, I was both terrified and ecstatic to learn that our third would be a girl. Could I get up to speed for the job in time? I already had a lifelong healthy appreciation for beautiful shoes and clothes and had more personal care products than I could ever use in my medicine cabinet. But most days I could be found in pajamas, no makeup and days away from a shower.
Could I pull off “polished” for this girl I had prayed for?
Not at first, no. And of course, it didn’t go the way I planned. I always thought it would be me to teach my daughter about how fun it is wear a beautiful dress or take a bubble bath or take pleasure in a beautiful flower or that it’s normal to cry when you hear a beautiful piece of music. I thought these were things that had to be taught. Instead it is her showing me that these things are completely ingrained in our female selves from day one.
What a wonderful surprise it has been to have her feminine genius begin to shine through and reflect on to me.
She reminds me daily that our femininity is a gift. “Let’s get dressed up for dinner tonight,” she says. I groan and want to stay in my workout clothes. I ask her why, especially since it’s just a regular Thursday night. “Because it’s Thursday night!”
JP II said in his Letter to Women: “The world doesn’t need what women have, the world needs what women are.” The world definitely needs more women who are willing to dress up for Thursday night dinner at home; in her own way she shows us that every dinner together is special.
My darling daughter was followed by yet another son, whom she loves to mother and hug and kiss to pieces, as do I. That makes it 4 boys and 2 girls in our house. Sometimes the boys get running around like crazy acting wild, and sometimes we both join in. Other times she’ll run to me and we’ll escape to one of our rooms and whisper our “secret” phrase to one another that always makes us feel united: “two best girls”.