Thirty Days of Truth - Day Seven

Since I'm still awake, this technically counts as today, as in not yesterday which technically happened about a half hour ago.  Yup.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Day Seven - Someone who has made your life worth living.

There are too many people I could say this about.

My Mom, who has always been an inspiration to me.

My Dad, who even after he was gone, always left me wanting to be more like he'd been.

My Husband who has never given up on me no matter how psycho I've gotten.

Honestly though, if I HAVE to pick one, it would have to be the one any mother would choose.

My daughter.

I've never been one to keep up with periods.  I figure they're bad enough when they come, they don't deserve to be scheduled.  The day I realized it had been a couple of months since I had one, I actually remembered the night that made me stop having them.  One of those "You're kidding me????  Really?" moments of clarity after the fact.

I had pretty much decided I didn't want to have kids.  I don't really do that well with them until they're into tattoos and piercings and talking about grown up stuff.  Not that I don't like them or anything, I've just never really been into hanging out with the wee ones.  I do okay with them when I am with them, but well, you know what I mean.

I'm not revealing anything my husband doesn't already know so don't feel bad for him.  My first thought was pure terror.  I was pregnant.

For three solid months I cried.  I was horrified.  I didn't really want to be pregnant at all.  That changed the very first time I felt that little life inside me move.  A single push against my stomach and I was in love.  My pregnancy (other than the tears) was picture perfect.  No morning sickness, no missed sleep, I only gained 19 pounds which I lost three of with the flu the week before she was born.  Eating was no problem because all I wanted was watermelon, popsicles and white grapes.  Perhaps that's WHY I only gained 19 pounds, or maybe it was because my german doctor threatened to not deliver the baby if I gained over 25, who knows.

Labor was a little bit of a different story, but I won't go into it here.

From the moment that little girl was born, she became my life.  I started striving to be a better person because I was HER mother, and I wanted to be everything that would make her proud.  What I didn't know then was that it didn't matter to her what I did for a living, what I looked like, or anything else.  She loved me for being me and that in itself was a lesson in love.

Watching her grow, seeing her mature into the beautiful young woman she is today has been worth anything to me.  She's my best friend, the coolest person I know.  Through a bout of depression that had me thinking of suicide, even though I'm pretty sure I'd never go through with it, thinking about her would draw my thoughts to better things.  Every day with her has been my own miracle.  She inspires me, motivates me, makes me laugh, makes me cry, makes every day a new adventure and I love her so damn much I can't imagine now having never had her.  Never experiencing the "uppy, uppy" or "do it again, do it again!" or "little bear's over, nappy time", never fighting with her to get rid of her pacifiers, it's all just unfathomable now.  I'm a mother.  I made a beautiful little person (with some help of course!) and in turn that little person has made me a better person.

Now with her being an adult, getting ready to graduate and start college, there's just as much to look forward to, even if it's different than the pretty little smiles over the sides of her crib.  It just goes to show that being a mother never changes, just the experiences that go along with it.  Once a mother, always a mother, and that my friends, makes every single day of my life worth living.

And now, the mandatory Mommy Pride option.  Pictures.  The Kitty Princess.

With my Grandfather, 1995

Horse Show, 1999

One of my fave pics of her ever.

And now I'm done.  Thanks for ooooh'ing and aaaaaah'ing appropriately.  :)