She Calls Me Momma

Miss Teyla came to my room yesterday afternoon and sunk into my arms. It was then that I realized she was burning up with fever. I was able to get her a bath and some Tylenol while she shivered and looked at me with glassy eyes. She fell asleep in my arms at 6:00 PM. She woke up several times in the night, drenched in sweat and desperate for water. But this morning, she's doing much better. To celebrate my sweet girl, I thought I'd pull this out of my drafts folder. I wrote it a few weeks ago. It's truer today than it was before.

I have this toddler.

She wakes up every morning with a crazy wild mane and a gap-toothed smile that is better than coffee to my sleep-deprived mind.

She has curly hair with metallic highlights and blue eyes that change shades with her moods and skin that is as fair and creamy as milk.

Everything about her sparkles.

She doesn't understand the meaning of the word quiet. "Kie-ette! I kie-ette Momma!" she yells at me when the baby is sleeping.

She sings all the live long day. "A-B-C," "Jesus Loves Me," and "Winkle, Winkle, Wittle Tar."

And she calls me momma.

To the older kids, I'm mom or mommy.

But to my two-year-old? "I wuv Momma!" she says with her husky voice, equal parts smoke and sugar.

I love being her Momma.