You Should See My Heart

Every day, I am amazed by my little girl.  Never once in her life has a second gone by when I didn't learn something new about her...or myself.  Here's a short list of recent moments, which, when added together, remind me why it's so great to be a momma.

***

It's late at night; she went to bed hours ago.  From my cozy seat on the couch in front of the TV, I hear a thunk, followed by a plaintive cry.  I jettison myself off of the couch and barge into her room, only to find a buck-naked three-year-old standing in a puddle.

(What, you may ask, is so great about this?  She was wearing feetie jammies, which were obviously too hot, so she removed the offending garment.  She had to go tinkle, and, though the potty was out of reach across the hall and past two closed doors, she pulled down her pants and went.  Her Pull-Up - which had been launched across the room - is dry.  Some part of the potty-training is getting through...we've just got to work on the location...)

***

It's early in the morning; she's groggy, and she doesn't want anything to do with anyone but her trusty blanket, who we've dubbed Dirt Pink.  She reluctantly takes a few sips from her cup and a handful of trail mix for breakfast, and then brings me her shoes, sitting down and presenting her foot.

***

She's now completely dressed, shoes and all.  She grabs her jacket and presents it to me or The Hubbs, whoever is closest.  She jams her arms through the sleeves.

***

Donning a full outfit, complete with jacket, she grabs her backpack and drags us to the door.  It's time to go.

***

While we're taking our family stroll around the driveway, the bus comes into view.  She smiles and flaps a little.  We smooch her cheeks and tell her to have a great day.  The bus pulls up to the end of the driveway, and the doors swoosh open.  On this one particular day, she lets go of my hand and runs to the open door, going up the steps all by herself.

***

We meet her at the end of the driveway after school.  I board the bus, grab her backpack and her hand, and we're off.  She spots The Hubbs by the gate and lets go of my hand, running full-speed-ahead to her daddy, who whisks her away on a wagon ride, followed by some quality time with her tire swing.

***

One night, she shuffles around with Dirt Pink, obviously ready for bed.  We take her to her room and lay her down, singing our bedtime song.  Just like every other night, we back out of the room saying, "Ni-night."  Miracle of miracles, she looks back at us, smiles, and says, "Nuh-nuh," before rolling over on her side.

***

Before The Princess came along, I never would have thought I could take care of a special needs kiddo...I'd have told you there was no way I could handle it.  Now, I wonder how I ever got by without her, and I am thankful each and every day for the blessing of being her momma.  She teaches me so very much, and these are lessons that could never have been taught by anyone else.

Reflecting upon the sheer awesomeness of being her momma brings to mind one of my favorite sayings that I found some time ago on an autism awareness site: "If you think my hands are full, you should see my heart."

Sure, she's a handful much of the time, but it's so very worth the effort.  Really, honestly, you should see my heart.  It's bursting with love, pride, happiness, awe, and - most of all - her.