Right now, you’re young and tell me everything. I have a behind-the-scenes, front-row seat, backstage pass into all things YOU. You willingly ooze unfiltered, highly sensitive information, and hey, maybe some of it is TMI, but you want to share it, so I want to hear it. Your tummy erupting like an angry volcano definitely left nothing for the imagination.
I know what makes you smile and what makes you sad. I know exactly how many kisses and hugs help you fall asleep. I know the perfect number of seconds (20) to warm your milk in the microwave.
I know these things because you told me, and from the moment you were born, I was your sponge.
I soak up every word and feeling you share, file them in my heart, and carry them with me. I do this because I love you, and what is important to you is important to me.
However, I must add this disclaimer: though I’m a mighty mom sponge with good intentions—actively seeking, keeping, storing, and protecting all precious kiddo data—I will inevitably miss something. It’s bound to happen. My stubborn mommy weakness seems to be that I am, admittedly, just a human.
When something of great importance slips through the cracks, please don’t give up on me.
I give you full permission to grab my face, look me straight in the eyes and say, “Mommy, this is important to me, please listen and remember.”
Science may not be able to explain why moms can remember the most obscure trivia about their kids, but I can—the nooks and crannies in our spongy mom hearts are incapable of running out of room.
As your mommy, I am honored to be your safe place, but as you get older, you might have doubts about talking to me.
Let me stop you right there with some pretty big news—you’re kind of a big deal, and whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me. I’ll never judge, I can’t be shocked, feelings won’t be minimized, and I’ll never be too busy to listen. So kiddo, keep pouring your heart out and tell me all about it.
Mommy (your biggest fan)