My mom texted me a few weeks ago and told me flat out that she wants an oven thermometer for Mother’s Day.
I hadn’t actually planned on getting my mom a Mother’s Day gift. I figured a card and maybe a painting by Charlotte would suffice. It’s not as if an oven thermometer is going to break the bank—I mean seriously, as gift requests go, this one is ridiculously simplistic and is already sitting in my guest room awaiting a gift bag, but still. She expects a gift, and so she will get her oven thermometer.
But for me?
All I want for Mother’s Day is my little girl. I want to spend the day kissing her head and singing along to her silly songs and basking in her toddler glow.
Throughout all of the years of will we/won’t we negotiations, all of the pregnancy tests and needles and fertility-related debt, all I wanted was to be a mom. I wanted to be a part of this club. I wanted in on this Hallmark holiday. Charlotte gave me that gift, and I have not taken it for granted for one second of one day. She has filled every space that was left in my heart.
I hope she never feels the need to buy me an oven thermometer. I hope she will always just let me use this day to kiss her head and tell her over and over again that she is the greatest gift I have ever been given.
Nothing can top you, my sweet little girl. Nothing in the world.