Little Hands

Used by permission from Proverbs 31 Ministries 

Little hands to hold so tight. Hair to comb, and tears to wipe. Little feet that grow so fast. Teeth to brush and bedtime baths. Little cups that must be filled. Teething rings that must be chilled. Little dresses, spin and twirl. Little hair bows, little curls. Time is fleeting, oh so fast. What was just here, is now the past. Little hands that needed me. Now need me less, I start to see. She ties her shoes and combs her hair. Picks out her clothes, knows what to wear. She grabs her doll, heads to the door. I smile, she's still a little girl. We're at the park, we play pretend. She tells me I'm her favorite friend. Who, what, when, where, why and how? She needs to know these things right now. So full of life, so full of love. This gift sent from the Lord above. She's older now, my little girl. She's learning more about the world. Each night I ask the Lord above, to help me teach her how to love. There's so much that she needs to know, and I'm still learning as I go. Please, Lord... PLEASE help me get this right. I beg, as I lose sleep at night. Precious soul, undefiled. Lord, guide me as I raise this child. What just happened? Can it be? My little girl is now a teen. No more dolls, and no more bows. That happened fast, where did time go? Help me to listen patiently, as I instruct her, Lord guide me. May my words be gentle and kind. Loving, sincere, pure and wise. Her time at home, will soon be gone. It sure did fly, but it was fun. Her bags are packed and by the door. She's off to face a whole new world. It seems like only yesterday, as I would rock her… she would say. Just one more story, pretty please? Please would you read one more to me? Then I would tuck her in her bed, and kiss her on her precious head. No more ballet, no more tee ball. No more measurements on the wall. Today she'll leave this cozy nest, and spread her wings, and give her best. Five years later, long white dress. My heart is full, I am so blessed. My little girl, a woman now. So full of grace, I am so proud. A handsome man, I'll call my son. I've prayed for him, since she was one. Thank you Lord, for hearing me. For strengthening our family tree. Two young lives will now be one. A new love story has begone. Two years later, by her bed. The doctor says, he sees a head. A baby girl, wrapped up in pink. My daughter reaches her to me. I close my eyes, and smell her hair. The tears they fall, without a care. I lay her on my daughter's chest, The years ahead will be her best. It's true, she may not know it yet. But she will soon, that I can bet. Little hands to hold so tight. Hair to comb and tears to wipe. 

 {From our friend Vicki at Sit Down and Take a Brake: http://victoriabrake.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-poem-little-hands.html?spref=fb

Let's Pretend We're Moms

http://www.littlemeems.com/2009/05/lets-pretend-were-moms.html

2010
by Jennifer Gurley
Used by permission

My daughter has an active imagination. She's lost in the world of pretend as often as she's present in reality. So much so that frequently she will clarify "for real" when she's talking about something that happened/is going to happen, so that I know that she's not making it up.

We've watched her, with fascination, as she crosses back and forth over the line between the two as easily as most of us blink. While at dinner, watching TV, in the car...one minute you're talking about school, and the next she's waving her hand around saying, "I know, I know, my kids do the same thing," in a tone I can only guess she thinks commiserating moms use. Or she'll swing her hair down into her face, saying "I just can't find the time to get it cut" to her imaginary commiserating friend-who's-also-a-mom.

The theme here is moms. That's her passion. She loves all "mom" things. How many times have I walked outside to find her pushing her little brother around in a stroller and asked her, "whatcha doing?" to have her answer "Well, my son's sick, and so I think I might have to take him to the hospital. Can you give me directions? Oh, and I LOVE your shoes!"

I remember playing with my dolls and playing moms. I guess if I really think about it, it had an allure to me. The "mom" world -- a world of grown-up ladies who drank coffee and had meetings and wore Dr. Scholl's sandals (it was the 70s).

So it should come as no surprise that my own little girl enjoys it. But I really think she enjoys it much more than I ever did. I notice her watching me sometimes, and later I can usually find her in front of a mirror doing the same thing. She talks to her imaginary mom friends with her hands, the way I do. She throws her head back and slaps her thigh the way I do when I laugh. She puts a lot of cream in her coffee, like me. She reads home decorating magazines in the chair, her legs crossed, giving her index finger a little lick each time she turns the pages. She scolds her children for their sassy mouths and for not listening, just like I do. Using the same words, the exact tone and with just the right amount of exasperation in her voice.

I've always thought it a little funny. What a funny little girl she is. But as I write this I'm touched.

Because good or bad, she's emulating me. She's pretending she's me. She's fascinated by ME.

And it hits me what a cycle we little girls live. Generation to generation, our moms are our greatest influences. Our first ambitions. Our nurturers. Our style icons.

As Mother's Day approaches, I realize in writing about my daughter that she's giving me, every single day, the best present a mother could ever ask for.

Happy Mother's Day to all you ladies who are moms, who have moms, who've played moms. You are truly blessed. 

An update from Jennifer:
Mary Catherine would have been 6 when this was published, although I think I actually wrote it about a year earlier. She just turned 15 and is starting high school in a few weeks. She plays volleyball, runs cross country and is helping to coach a cheer squad of 8 and 9-year-olds.  She's spunky and sweet (although not always to me but she is a teenager), loving and lovely. Of course, she's mine and I am undoubtedly biased, but I bet if you asked her grandparents, they'd agree!

Encouragement for the Mom Who Regrets What She Said

Used by permission from the author, Jennie Scott
November 30, 2016

 http://www.jenniegscott.com/2016/11/30/encouragement-mom-regrets-said/

When I learned my second pregnancy was with a little girl, I immediately had visions of tutus and hairbows. Parenting up to that point had consisted of Tonka trucks and John Deere tractors, so the thought of dressing up a little girl fascinated me. I left the ultrasound and went straight to the store, needing to buy something pink and prissy to hang in her closet.

Today, that little girl is nearly 10 years old, and although I dressed her in pink and placed the biggest bows I could find on her tiny baby head, she did not turn out to be a prissy girl. She is athletic and strong, and she would rather wear running shorts and t-shirts than dresses and tights.

Her dark brown hair cascades down her back, and a ponytail has become her signature look. But that dark brown ponytail has become the biggest argument-inducer between the two of us. She hates to condition it, hates to dry it, and hates to brush it. If she had her way, her hair would always air dry and be full of tangles and knots. We’ve gone around and around about it, and every night I find myself asking, “Have you brushed your hair yet?” I always know the answer.

After a busy night recently of her gymnastics practice and her brother’s football activities, we rushed to eat dinner, make lunches, take showers, and get everyone ready for bed. It wasn’t until I tucked her in that I noticed her hair. Unbrushed. Wet. Tangled.

I wish I could say I handled it calmly, but I didn’t. I was tired and harried, and I let my frustration over her actions direct my handling of the situation. I fussed. I criticized. And I made her cry.

“I’m sorry,” she tearfully apologized, adding, “I’m so mad at myself.”

And in that moment, I became mad at myself, too.

To continue reading, click here.

I’m honored to be guest posting at faithfulsparrow.com!

A Dozen Ways to Look after Your Daughter's Heart

by Lisa Jacobson  - http://club31women.com/2013/07/a-dozen-ways-to-look-after-your-daughters-heart/  
Used by permission

 

You can also read A Dozen Ways to Reach Your Son’s Heart.

 

I nearly panicked when our first daughter was born. That sweet baby girl.

 

Not sure exactly why, but I keenly and immediately felt my inadequacy as a mother. It’s true we had a son, but I guess I figured that if things ever went wrong, I could always hand him over to his dad.

 

But a girl…..?

 

I knew a girl needs her mother.

 

I knew a mom has to care for her heart – oh, how well I knew!

 

I knew she would turn to me to learn how to be a woman and to navigate the complexities of life.

 

What I didn’t know was just how to go about it. How does a mom look after her daughter’s heart?

 

1.  Walk together.  The girls and I have some of our best talks when we’re out walking together. Maybe it’s the fresh air, or the steady movement of our legs, but there’s something about it that opens hearts and minds to good conversation.

 

2.  Take tea together. Although we have a very busy household, most every day we sit down and enjoy a cup of tea for 15 to 30 minutes. It’s a daily connecting point and a nice opportunity to bring up questions, grievances, or just fun news.

 

3.  Bring home little gifts. This is the “love language” of one of our daughters in particular. It’s only something small, but it says to her that I’m thinking of her. And all my girls appreciate the sharing of a bit of chocolate.

 

4.  Set aside a special time for her. The girls love it when we make special plans together. Sometimes I’ll grab one and take her out to a cafe. Or we’ll all dress up and attend a fancy event for an evening.

 

5.  Work together. For me, it’s less about “getting the job done” and more about the camaraderie of working together. Talking and laughing while we fold clothes or prepare a meal.

 

6.  Seek her out. Don’t wait for her to come to you. My girls mentioned recently how much they appreciate being checked on to see how they’re doing.

 

7.  Take the time to listen. Lots of time. A girl’s heart cannot be rushed or squeezed in between a zillion other priorities. She needs her mom to be available to simply listen to her thoughts and concerns. Her fears and her insecurities. Her hopes and her dreams.

 

8.  Pray for insight. It isn’t always clear how to reach through to your daughter. Be prepared to earnestly pray over her, asking the Lord to show you what she needs from her mom.

 

9.  Guide her with wise instruction. A daughter relies on her mom’s wisdom and solid counsel – helping her to sort through the choices, relationships, struggles, and challenges that face a young woman.

 

10. Enjoy her for who she is. She is uniquely made by God. So delight in her personality, her gifts, and, yes, even her more annoying traits. She needs to feel her mother’s loving acceptance.

 

11. Be patient with the process. She’s not going to get it all right, all the time. And that’s okay. I’ll remind myself, “How it is today, isn’t necessarily how it’s always going to be.” Give her room to grow.

 

12. Offer encouragement. Tell her specific things that you admire and appreciate about her. Communicate that you are confident in her future and that God has good plans in store for her life.

 

So, as you see, it takes a significant amount of time and effort to connect with a girl’s heart. It’s not simple and it’s certainly not a science. No wonder I panicked.

 

But your daughter – that sweet baby girl – sure is worth it, isn’t she?

 

Yeah, I think so too.

 

These are a few of the ways I connect with the girls in our family. What are some of yours?