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Bedtime Thoughts

June 5, 2017

So last night I was tucking my oldest daughter into bed after I read her stories.

We have a silly little routine where after she gets into bed I make her into a “sausage” and that basically means wrapping her really tight in two fuzzy, pink, cupcake covered baby blankets (feet in), and then her duvet goes on top. (sausage roll hee hee) Afterwards she gets cuddles and kisses…. and I was telling her how proud we are of her every day (I know, this is crazy sappy). Then she told me how much she loves me and her daddy and her little sister and that we are her family. She was so sweet and sincere and happy.

We do most of this just about every night, however last night what she said got me thinking about my own childhood, and how it differed from hers so dramatically.

When I was her age my father was absent from my life and raising another family.

When I was her age I remember standing in my mother’s bedroom as she told me that she had two boyfriends… but she had to choose one of them and if she decided to go with the one who didn’t want children then she would have to get rid of me. She told me this like there was a real possibility that I would no longer be welcome in my own home. This conversation was so disturbing, the memory is burned into my brain to the extent that I can practically smell the room where it happened. I was so scared about where I would go, because as far as I knew, no one else would want me.

And MY little sister (same age gap as between my daughters) was given away for adoption from birth (within our family, complicated). Her parentage was never kept a secret from either of us.

So at 5 years old, I understood far too much about life. I understood that I had to play the role of observer as other people, who wanted no part of me enjoyed what I perceived should have been my family. I missed my father and my sister every day, and at night, I went to sleep in uncertainty.

These bizarrely vivid memories caught in my throat as I tucked in my sweet, barely 5 year old girl, who was going to her bed feeling safe and loved in every way. They made me reflect on how far I’ve come, and all of the positive things in my life that I’ve worked for as well as all the positive things that have found me through the years. And I saw in her gorgeous little squishy face as she looked up at me, that even though I don’t feel like it sometimes (often), I’m damn well doing something right.

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From → Mommy-ness

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