You know by now that I truly relish my role as a Mother of Boys in every respect; the chaos, the rowdiness, the pandemonium that comes with raising the men of the future. I can joke about it, and laugh about it, but that's only because I have a secret weapon, a key that keeps me sane through it all. And that key is my one and only daughter.
She doesn't get the spotlight too much in my blog because, she can use the bathroom (albeit for a ridiculously long amount of time in the morning) and leave it clean. She is also rarely (although not never) featured in the living room pile-ups. But mostly I don't write about her because she once said to me, "What?? Now everything I say goes in your blog?!" So I've tried to protect that pre-teen privacy which is held so dear.
But tonight her and I had a moment. She wasn't aware of the moment, but I sure was.
J was getting ready for her first friend's Bat Mitzva. I've been in bed for almost three days with a flu, but I forced myself upright for the first time in 48 hours to help her blow dry her hair ("It's too poofy! It's too straight! It's not straight enough!"). And as I sat with her for those brief few minutes during her transformation from young school girl to beautiful young lady I was struck with not only her outer beauty and grace but by her inner beauty as well.
Sometimes we get a brief glimpse into the future of what our children will look like as adults, and who they will become. And at that moment I realized that it's not so far in the "future" when our children will become the adults we hope and pray that they will be.
And if we're doing a half decent job, some of them are already most of the way there.