Wednesday, October 13, 2010


Well, here it is. Another Wednesday. Another half way through the week.

Another day closer to Abi being out on her own.

I know, I know. Pretty dramatic. But every now and then, a wave hits me of "Oh-my-gosh-my-time-with-her-is-so-short." I think parenting is like cramming for that big test. You do your homework along the way. You turn in the assignments. You show up for class (most of the time). You're confident in the material. But the night before the big exam, you down endless pots of coffee and those little pills you buy at the gas station for road trips that you should never buy but do anyway, and you try to cover four weeks of lecture notes in one night, just in case you don't know as much as you think you do. (THAT WAS AN INCREDIBLY LONG SENTENCE. And, my high school English teacher is one of my readers. I'm in trouble.)

Anyway. The other day, I was turning into the bank. A car was coming toward me. It wasn't too close, not even CLOSE to hitting me, but close enough I sped up a little as I was turning to get out of the way. I thought to myself, "That was one of those situations my Mom would gripe at me about." And then it hit me. (This thought, not the car...)

One day, MY baby girl will be in the situation of trying to decide whether the car is too close or not. And she will follow her choice. And I can't control it.

So there I go. On a path of slightly freaking out at the thought of Abi behind the wheel of a car. But then, I realize. It's not just the car. It's the fact that there's SO much content to cover with her and SO little time to do it. I started thinking of all the things I want her to know. Things we need to work on. Things I needher to know. And I made a list a while back about this, so bear with me. I've added to it.

-that I did the best I could. (most days).

-that she's the first thing on my mind every single day.

- that no matter how many days I drop her off at school, I never leave until she disappears into her building and I can't see her backpack anymore.

-that I literally dread the day her hands don't look like a little girl's hands anymore.

-that I hope she's the "quirky" kid in her class.

-that I've memorized every freckle on her face, every curve of her toes, and the exact spot in her eyes where the green fades into a brownish gray.

-that her Daddy loves her so much, sometimes I think he'll burst.

-that sometimes I sit by her bed while she's sleeping, just listening to her breathe and wonder what she's dreaming about.

-that sometimes she gets on my last ever-loving nerve.

-that she is privileged in so many ways.

-that the day I brought her up onto the stage at church for the congregation to see her after all the years of praying for her conception, people rejoiced for her life and took ownership of her as "their" baby.

-that I don't care if she IS the preacher's kid/grandkid, she's still allowed to fail like every other child in the church.

-that I cannot WAIT until the day she and I sit together, woman to woman, over a cup of coffee as friends.

-that I daydream about being at her side for all the girl things: prom makeup, her wedding planning, the birth of her firstborn... being a girl mama guarantees me a front row seat.

-that if she moves to China and becomes a missionary, it will take all the will power I've ever had (and her big strong Daddy) to keep me from becoming a Chinese citizen.

-that every kid needs an aunt they confide in... and her best friend in her teenage years will be her Aunt Lori.

-that manners will escalate her into favor in this world.

-that sometimes, all someone needs is a kind word.

-and that sometimes a harsh word is all it takes.

-that long before the foundation of the world was laid, she was the only thought on the mind of her Creator.

-that the day she was born, Heaven exploded with joy.

-and my heart exploded with love.

-that she has men in her life she can trust with all her being. Men who would tear apart anyone who harms her with their bare hands. Men who care enough about her to make sure she's dressed like a lady and behaving like the treasure she is.

-that there's a rich heritage flowing through her veins.

-that when I pull into the school parking lot to get her and she gets into my van, I feel like nothing's missing anymore.

-that sometimes when she's asleep, I kiss her cheeks until I have to make myself stop.

-that even if she's 23, she can still crawl into our bed at 5:00am if she wants to.

Okay, okay. I'll stop for now. There's so much more I could say, but it's overwhelming and quite frankly, daunting. I'm just glad I have the next 11 or so years to get it all done. That's ALOT of time. Plenty of time. Right?

It's really not.

At all.

But she'll be ready. And so will I.


  1. Jill I can't believe you read my mind. I am still crying because mine is eleven and I have even LESS time! As she gets older I constantly wonder have I done it right? And time still keeps moving forward.

  2. I've read this one several times (big surprise) and it strikes a different chord with me everytime. Thanks for sharing your precious jewels. xoxo