Character Confession—She Calls Me Mama

Character confession. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? If you’re new, or if it’s been so long you forgot, I try to take Saturdays and blog a character confession, courtesy of Noelle Mena of Pliable in His Hands. I simply write what I’m feeling or a little summary of my week and how it matches up to the cute little graphics.

I find this meme gets quite a bit of viewing, even if not a lot of people comment. Maybe, just maybe, you can relate to my confession. Maybe mine makes you feel better about yourself. Whatever the case, I put myself out there this way in hopes the confession encourages you.

For those that know me offline, you know my experience with our youngest has been filled with challenges. Her first year was all about health issues and therapy. They rocked my world, but I learned a lot from it. I’m excited she’s doing so well with all the things that held her back 7 years ago.

Once her health stabilized, I had a new challenge. She didn’t care for me. It wasn’t that she hated me, it was that I wasn’t even on her radar.

At all.

Her life was all about her daddy. And for those nights he had to work late, or sing in choir, or do anything that distanced them, she was a mess.

And blamed me.

It was a tough balance figuring out what was a daddy’s girl and what needed boundaries before it took a toll on our marriage and my relationship with our daughter. I never knew if I should fade in the woodwork or fight for my place in her life.

So I prayed.

And cried a lot.

In the last few months I’m seeing a shift. We have a lot of mom-daughter adventures. Over the summer we wrote a customized story together. The other night after her shower we talked about 45 minutes and I could feel the proverbial wall between us shatter. She opened herself up to me and let me in.

And ever since, she’s called me Mama.

I don’t know why it’s so endearing, but it isn’t the norm for us. I’m usually mom, and when she wants something, she can lay mommy on thick. But this week Mama seems the new name that signifies the shift, and I can’t hear it enough.

We’re still going to have our struggles, I’m a realist. She still asks after 5pm when is dad coming home, and after church she always chooses him to ride home with, which I have no problem with.

But her spontaneous hugs, including me in the pictures she draws (yes, there was a season I didn’t even make her family pictures) and even working out together doing the Shake It Up DVD was bliss—to this mama.

Am I the only Mama that felt forsaken and is experiencing a positive change? I’d love to hear other stories out there.

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