I had a very precious heart to heart talk with my baby girl tonight about some possible changes that may be coming to our family. Nothing more than the addition of a last name for her mommy, but it scares her and I understand. As we talked about what would stay the same: that her daddy would always be her daddy, that Saint Jason would always be someone who loves her and wants to help her be a happy & safe little girl and that I will do everything I can to protect she and her "bubbas" forever and ever as long as I am able...I realized that I am exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up.
I am that mom. I am the imperfect fuck-up who has blown the statistics right out of the water. I've failed at marriages 1 and 2 and am so thankful I did. I wouldn't have Saint Jason. I wouldn't be where I am now. I wouldn't be healthy. I wouldn't be me.
My kids see that mom...their mom and while I may not be perfect, they will always know that I am exactly what I always wanted to be--theirs. I love every whiny, snotty, permanent marker on brand new clothes moment. I relish the "dammits" in public and the "that's not fair, mom" and the hours of Xbox; because that is the tangible, palatable, audible beauty of courage for me.
I am growing up to be who I really am and it's about fucking time.