That's a nice post.
Now, can I write my daughter a letter as a Mom? Just for a balanced discussion... ;)
Dear daughter,
You are the most beautiful gift life has ever bestowed on me. I remember the moment you were born. I remember the first day and night I held your tiny vulnerable body in my arms. I was overwhelmed; overwhelmed with relief that you were healthy, pride at your beauty, awe at your perfection, fear at how I might fuck you up, terror at the sense of responsibility I felt towards you, confusion as to how nappies worked, bewilderment as to what to do when you cried and amazement at the bottomless love I felt for you.
We grew together. Me setting boundaries, you breaking them. That was when you were 2. At three, your independence really kicked in. So, we negotiated. You unwillingly complied, though your face told it all - you were well able to manage on your own thank you very much Mummy (until it came down to finding your shoes or coat).
At four you started school. You shared your fears. I comforted you and reassured you. You took it in your stride.
All through the years I had to set boundaries for you. Which your wonderful spirit zealously tried to breach. We are well matched.
I have seen you ill and thought my heart would break. I have seen you sad and comforted you (while secretly plotting vengeance against the culprit). I have seen you angry and blamed myself.
I have looked at you sleeping and felt full to bursting with love. I have cried when I have felt like I have failed. I have tortured myself for not being good enough. I have given you the freedom to be the strong character you are today, but I always wonder whether I am doing enough.
You are now entering teenage years. I lie awake at night wondering whether I've done enough, given you enough, demonstrated my love enough in order for you to begin to stand on your own feet. It is a big scary world out there. I've lived in it. I want to prevent you from having to learn from your own mistakes.
I know I can't. I have erred on the liberal side of caution. But, I am dreading these years. Not because I want to spoil your fun, not because I want you to be some librarian robot person, but because I genuinely want to prevent you experiencing pain or difficulty in your life.
Please know, that I will always challenge you. I will always be here. I love you to the moon and then to infinity (plus one). Don't feel that I'm trying to curb your enjoyment of life.
You make me swell with love and pride every moment I think about you. I am here for you always, all my faults, all my warts, but with more love than you know.
Please know that I have your back. No matter what. And if I give you a bollockin, you probably deserve it. Likewise, feel free to reciprocate. But please remember, you will always be the little tiny fragile bundle of sheer and utter 'miracle-ness' until the day I die.
Yours forever,
Mammy.