Sometimes I wonder what you'll be like as a mom, having endured me as your role model. Will you say that I didn't play with you enough? That I got mad too often, stayed sad for too long, didn't understand you? Will you try not to make the mistakes I made? Probably.
I can't fight it. I will make mistakes. You will remember them. But what I hope more than anything is that you know, really know, that I truly enjoy you. That being with you, teaching you, learning from you and moving through the world with you is a joy.
Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's needy, but I want to be your best friend. Of course there will be so much more to our relationship than friendship. And some of it won't be great. But one day, when the day to day gig of raising you has come to an end and you're wading into adulthood, I want to be on your speed dial. I want to be in your pictures. I want to be there in your life. And to have you in mine.
I know that it's the stuff I do now and in the coming years that will frame how you see me when you're all grown up. How you see us. This thought terrifies me. It comes to me every night just after you go to sleep. And it's overwhelming sometimes.
What's the answer? The answer, I think, must be to keep showing up. To keep trying. To keep reminding myself that you will hopefully not be as hard on me as I am on myself. And that if I can manage to keep letting my love for you guide my decisions, we just might be alright.
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