I carried all 40 pounds of you for hours at the fair. I took you to the doctor when you were sick. I went to work for you, went to bed late and got up early for you. I spent hours in the bathroom with you, helping you bathe and re-potty training you. I cleaned up accidents. I folded laundry for you; I dropped you off and picked you up from two different daycares. I packed you special lunches; I went grocery shopping for things you will eat. I did paperwork for you. I cried sometimes because I was physically exhausted from taking care of you.
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And in a moment of anger and emotion, because I wouldn't let you watch TV, you burst out, "Mom, I don't want to be your daughter anymore". Emphatically. Repeatedly.
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I laughed. Because I know that you don't mean that. Because I know that I'll hear that again. Because I love you so much I lay down my life for you every. single. day, whether I feel like it or not.
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I've never seen a clearer picture of myself than tonight than in your angry, 4-year-old face, my sweet girl, while you tried to disown me. How many times have I told my Father, "I don't want to be your daughter anymore". I'm ashamed to say how many times. How many times I've shouted angry words at Him because of how I feel.
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He gets it. He laughs: "Oh honey. I love you so".
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He never changes. He loves me and cares for me every day. He is there on the bad days and good days.
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And baby, I'll always be your mom.
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