Dear Taylor Swift… A Thank You.

August 30, 2011 By 27 Comments

 

Dear Taylor,

I need to thank you.  Not simply for the gift of your music.  But for the magic wrapped in the moments you gave me on the night of your concert here in St. Louis.  Sure, you are talented….. I never doubted that.  But what I didn’t know was how I would feel as I watched you through the eyes of my sweet girl. I cried at her awe, at the beauty of watching her wide brown eyes, her open-mouth, her sweet up-turned freckled nose.  I knew these were seconds I wouldn’t get back.

She just turned seven.  This was her first concert.  Thank you for knowing and understanding the faith I and hundreds of other moms put in you that night.  Your language was pure.  You walked the line between sassy and mature – never veering into territory that would cause me to cover my girl’s ears.  Thank you for being the kind of role model I can point to with pride…  a talented young woman with spunk and sass….  who’s heart is clearly as beautiful as her face.  Your mom must be so intensely proud of you. Heck, I was proud of you…. and you know how close we are.

 

You know how we experienced you?  Holding hands… drinking lemonade….. singing along to your songs.  She giggled.  She marveled at the stage and the size of the trucks used to move you and your crew from one city to the next..  She asked 724 questions.

She trusted me.

She trusted me to know the songs, to lift her when she needed to be lifted, to hold her as she fell asleep in my lap as you sang your final song.

It was magic.

Thank you.  My Taylor Swift concert experience *might* have been better than hers.

Love,

A Grateful Mom.

 

A special thank you to our friend Karla Shaffer and her daughter, Avery (a good friend from school) for allowing me to use the featured picture of Taylor – they had fantastic seats and their pictures of the night were amazing!


 

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Today – A small miracle

March 1, 2010 By 13 Comments

delaneymiraclepicOk – maybe Miracle is a strong word….but you know, sometimes a small step forward for your child can feel like you have donned a cape and danced over the buildings of disrespectful and non-listening children?

That’s what happened this morning.

My sweet girl did something she has never done before.

After getting herself dressed….she went downstairs (all by herself mind you – no prodding), packed her lunch, packed her backpack and put on her socks and shoes.

I know you might be thinking – ‘big flippin’ deal, Danielle’. But it is.  It is huge.  It is monumental.

She came back upstairs and said, “Mommy, I have something to tell you…I’m all packed and ready for school.  All I have left to do it put on my coat.”

I paused.

This caliber of news deserves a pause, I tell you.

I glanced down and tilted my head – trying to see if she looked as different as she suddenly felt to me.  Except for the grin splitting her little face?  Nope – same Delaney.

She was so proud.  I was so proud.

And I promise you, she is going to know how proud I am – every single minute I am with her today.

This is a child who normally needs to be told 6-7 times, “please put your shoes on.”  And she has NEVER, I repeat, NEVER packed her own lunch and backpack – at least without tremendous prompting.

It is only Monday, and yet:

Mommy – 1, World – 0.

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Mini Me

August 5, 2009 By 3 Comments

I always had this grand vision that my children would look like me.  So when Delaney was born with a full head of dark brown hair, I briefly wondered if it was possible she had been switched.  But that was just my delusional-drug-filled brain doing the talking. 

I mean, I watched her as she was born. So, clearly, she was mine. And yet…..why doesn’t she look like me?  I have more of a strawberry blond head of hair – and my hubby, well, he has brown hair, but not THAT brown.

From the moment we decided on her name, Delaney, we have called her Mini D. (‘D’ is my nickname ) Now, she is often just ‘Mini’ – and yet – I’m still looking for the resemblance.  I’ll be honest, it is a BUMMER.

I think I have some after-school-special stuck in my head – you know where the mom and daughter walk hand-in-hand and you can clearly see they belong to each other.

So far, notsomuch.

Now, at 5 years old, my sweet girl’s hair has lightened up – but still – I search the freckles on her nose, looking for a familiar pattern.  I stare into the chocolate of her eyes and see a stronger version of my husband.  But where am I?  I am in there, aren’t I?

I have friends who knew me way-back-when – many of them think she looks like me – but I don’t see it.  I wish I did. 

I’m not sure why I have this need to identify her as mine, but I do.  I somehow want there to be an outward sign that bonds her as the daughter and me as the mother.  I battled through 9 months of carrying, the labor, the hemorrhaging and the emergency surgery that brought her into this world.

And, I wouldn’t change a single moment of it. But still, I sort of want a sign.

It is easy to see her Daddy in her. And sometimes I hear a little of me in her speech, but I don’t always want to claim those moments.

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However, I have to confess, today, something small happened.

Jeff said, he could see me in her….when she was smiling.  Is there a better moment – ever- to believe your child looks like you?

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“Really?”, I breathed softly.  Could it be possible that the world can really see she is mine?

“Really,” he said,  ”She’s beautiful.”

I guess that’s all I really need to hear.

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