How do you measure love? Do you judge it like a gift? Judge it by the pretty wrapping? But love it a hard thing to measure and judge, sometimes it is that present that is hard to wrap, the one that looks like it was wrapped with your eyes closed.
Motherhood is like that. It is not the pretty present that the media presents it to be. It does not sit there neatly in a box with pretty gift wrapping. Sometimes motherhood is your darkest, hardest, and even worse moments in life. But that is no measure of the love that you have for your child. How do you explain to your child how much you love them? How do you measure that love, especially when that child means so much to you?
I love, Tamika my daughter. Even saying that sentence fills me with love. But that statement is not lyrical and effusive. It is the clumsily wrapped gift..That statement does not even come close in expressing how much I love Tamika, and how much she means to me. Tamika is my child, yet she also "gets" me as a person. Raising her has shaped the person I am today.
Tamika was twenty yesterday. No longer a baby, a child, or even a teenage. But she will forever remain my Bubby.
Years ago we started a tradition of a Macca's breakfast on her birthday, even though she was 20 this year, Tamika still wanted to continue the tradition.
Tamika loves her brother, but yes... she is trying to fit him into a suitcase. No babies were harmed during this experiment.
Bubby is so special she got three cakes.