One weekend, only our little one came to visit. Our big girl stayed behind to be with her grandma. My husband was working on Saturday, so it was just the two of us girls for that 24 hour shift. We had a full day of one on one development time, which was wonderfully fulfilling. There’s nothing like one on one time with a little person to increase your affection for them.
Our primary
task was to get my little one riding her bike without training wheels. She was
so ready.
I put on my workout clothes, and off we went. Up and down the street, over and over, me running and catching, her growing in confidence. She was sporting an Under Armor t-shirt I’d bought her that said, “I don’t chase boys. I pass them.”
My kinda girl.
It wasn’t long before she really caught on to it, and off she went. She was yelling, “I’m doing it! Look! I’m really doing it!”
My eyes welled up, and I felt true parental pride. She was so brave and beautiful, and I had helped her discover that. It’s a marvelous feeling, watching my girls develop confidence in themselves. We loaded up the bike and drove to Daddy’s work to show off a little. On the way, she feel asleep. I guess she’d worked hard that morning.
So I sat in the car, the AC running, letting her get some much needed rest. Then Daddy came out, and the bike wheels were spinning again, with a grinning little blond perched on the seat. She and I were both proud all over again.
The next day, my husband and I drove her back to her mom. She jumped out of the car, ran to her mom with a huge hug and kiss and an “I missed you Mommy!”
She skipped back for a kiss and a hug for Daddy, and then she was off. No wave or hug or kiss or thank you or anything for step-mom.
I admit, it hurt my feelings. I’d poured myself into that little woman for the whole weekend, and we’d had a major developmental breakthrough together. I taught her to ride her bike without training wheels, and I’m taking credit for that! But she was off to her important people without a backward glance for stepmom.
As I reflected on the experience and many others since then, I've concluded that being thanked is not my motivation. I don’t love those girls so they’ll someday thank me. I don’t put aside my needs and preferences in order to teach them so that I’ll have some kind of recognition.
I love and serve my girls because their future depends on it. I can show them that faith, fidelity, education, and kindness will make their lives wonderful. I have the ability to redirect the river of dysfunction that has run through generations on their mom’s side. I am a powerful woman and can teach them to be the same.
So I love and serve because they have been given to me, because I have been uniquely qualified by life’s experiences to show them a better way. I don’t need recognition; I need to get to work. It’s not about me, after all.
I put on my workout clothes, and off we went. Up and down the street, over and over, me running and catching, her growing in confidence. She was sporting an Under Armor t-shirt I’d bought her that said, “I don’t chase boys. I pass them.”
My kinda girl.
It wasn’t long before she really caught on to it, and off she went. She was yelling, “I’m doing it! Look! I’m really doing it!”
My eyes welled up, and I felt true parental pride. She was so brave and beautiful, and I had helped her discover that. It’s a marvelous feeling, watching my girls develop confidence in themselves. We loaded up the bike and drove to Daddy’s work to show off a little. On the way, she feel asleep. I guess she’d worked hard that morning.
So I sat in the car, the AC running, letting her get some much needed rest. Then Daddy came out, and the bike wheels were spinning again, with a grinning little blond perched on the seat. She and I were both proud all over again.
The next day, my husband and I drove her back to her mom. She jumped out of the car, ran to her mom with a huge hug and kiss and an “I missed you Mommy!”
She skipped back for a kiss and a hug for Daddy, and then she was off. No wave or hug or kiss or thank you or anything for step-mom.
I admit, it hurt my feelings. I’d poured myself into that little woman for the whole weekend, and we’d had a major developmental breakthrough together. I taught her to ride her bike without training wheels, and I’m taking credit for that! But she was off to her important people without a backward glance for stepmom.
As I reflected on the experience and many others since then, I've concluded that being thanked is not my motivation. I don’t love those girls so they’ll someday thank me. I don’t put aside my needs and preferences in order to teach them so that I’ll have some kind of recognition.
I love and serve my girls because their future depends on it. I can show them that faith, fidelity, education, and kindness will make their lives wonderful. I have the ability to redirect the river of dysfunction that has run through generations on their mom’s side. I am a powerful woman and can teach them to be the same.
So I love and serve because they have been given to me, because I have been uniquely qualified by life’s experiences to show them a better way. I don’t need recognition; I need to get to work. It’s not about me, after all.
