“She can reach that doorbell now.
When she started primary care 3 years ago she was 2 feet shorter and could not reach.
She was 3 years younger and she didn’t know how.
She tiptoed, jumped and tried to reach but we always helped her through.
Opportunity lies on the other side of the door. Friendships that don’t affect Mom and Dad.
Decisions only she can make.
Lessons only she can learn.
On the other hand, there is growth and exploration of the mind – in addition to the kind of growth that this doorbell can now achieve.
I always picked her up so she could do it “all by herself” and sometimes I raced her so I didn’t have to pick her up.
But here we are, just reach.
No race is required.
No lift justified by mom.
Achieve little tiptoe moments with ease and a smile.
All the little tiptoe moments add up. And some of the big moments might be the ones our kids fly by without even celebrating; they can tiptoe right around them.
But you should still celebrate.
Because only you know the personal standards of living that you are supposed to keep your children with, and it is up to us to decide what standards we have for them.
Some people measure life in memories. Grades, behaviors or skills. For others, it’s just good days or bad days. But for some, it’s the standards we set.
We decide the plethora of these standards, where to start and when to meet them.
And for our family? This year’s life will be measured by this doorbell. A symbol of independence – something that the mother of this child will remember even if that child will not.
Because when we started, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t reach that doorbell without her mom.
And today – she can.”
This story has been submittedlove what matters by Wallflower Writing at Detroit Moms. You can follow her journey on Instagram and her website. Join the Love What Matters family and subscribe to our newsletter.
Read more from Wallflower Writing here:
“I was an absent friend. Unanswered messages piled up, excuses piled up. Sometimes it slips me.”: Woman expresses need for self-preservation, gratitude for true friends
“I hope my daughter remembers all my f-bombs. You don’t hear that often, but it’s true.”: Mom shares memories, lessons she hopes her daughter will get on to
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