How about a Happily Ever After?

So...here's the deal.  My God, my hubs, and I have created our family through the miracle of adoption.  And I LOVE adoption...I mean LOVE adoption.  It's my heart...it's my God's heart.  And people love to talk to me about it...people close to me and people I hardly know...it's kind of a hot topic I believe.  But more often than not, the adoption stories I hear are negative, sad, unhappily ever afters.  I could go on and on with specific stories I've heard...but they're basically just stories of broken hearted moms and dads whose children grow to resent and defy them and use adoption as their angle.  And for every story I hear, I try to remind myself of a similar story where adoption is not involved...because in real life, children sometimes break their parents' hearts, adopted or not.  But anyway, I'm sure there are lots of happily ever afters, but those stories seem to be rare.  When I do hear them, I get all warm and fuzzy inside and my joy level increases substantially.  I guess either way...even if I did hear positive stories all the time, I think I'd still have the same fears I have now.
The other day, I opened the door to our laundry room...not knowing my daughter was on the other side putting on her shoes.  The door hit her in the back and she said "hey...watch it lady" with a smile on her face.  I said "hey...you don't talk to your mother like that" with a smile on my face.  She replied with the following words..."You're not my mother".  Those words literally took my breath away, I froze, my heart sank.  And just before the tears made their appearance, she followed her "You're not my mother" with "You're my mommy, silly".  And then the tears came anyway.

My heart was rescued by her pure, loving, sweetness.  I am her mommy.  Not her mother.  And I won't make that mistake again.  The truth is my daughter loves me like any daughter loves her mommy.  She watches me, learns from me, she models so much of what she sees from me.  She tells me I "smell gorgeous",  she says my "face is precious" (she loves using strong adjectives).  She tells me she's going to be just like me.  She hates it when I'm disappointed in her, she's always plotting new ways to make me proud.  She wants my attention, she wants my cuddle time.  She never lets a meal go by without saying "thank you for my dinner mommy" (or lunch or breakfast)...even if she just has a bowl of cereal.  She loves making me happy and she succeeds every day.  She's a gift and I simply adore her.  She's not perfect, neither am I.  But we're perfectly mother mommy and daughter.  Thank you Jesus.    

 Someday, during an argument in her teen years, she might pull out the "real mom" card.  And I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.  But the truth...the truth is I'm as real as they get.  And although I'm extremely secure in that truth, those words will would (if they are spoken) still cut deep into the heart of this mama.  But maybe I can put that fear to rest for a while...because in the here and now...I'm just her mommy, NOT her mother.  And I think that's the way I like it.

Love,
      Crazy Mama Crook