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Eleven years and about 7 months I’ve prayed for you.
I was young. Scared. Afraid of what kind of mother I’d be. All of my dreams and plans changed when I took that pregnancy test in the Walmart bathroom. I thought my life was over. I had just turned eighteen. Just started college. I barely knew your dad.
God has a really funny way of giving us just what we need just when we need it. You came out perfect. We learned together. You and me and your dad, then along came your sister…and eventually your step-dad and brother.
We’re still learning together. Growing. Making (lots) of mistakes. Shaping. Molding. Stretching.
It hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t always been fun, and I haven’t always been the perfect mother. One thing is for sure, though…I’m the perfect mother for you.
You’re far smarter than I ever was at your age. You’re incredibly talented, kind, and thoughtful. Those big, beautiful blue eyes and curls for daaaayyyysss. I am so blessed to be your mama.
That was an excerpt from one of the love letters I wrote to my oldest daughter on her birthday this year. I am a firm believer in showing and telling my children as much as possible how much I love them and how much they mean to me. I didn’t have a very close relationship with my mom as a kid, and still don’t, so I’m hoping to circumvent that with my kids. I’ve got a video below I’d love to share with you of my pre-teens reading their most recent love letter.
Kathy Haan (mom)