There is nothing you can do, nothing you can say, nothing you can throw up, spit up, shout up that will make me love you less.
There is nothing you can do wrong and nothing you can do right that will make me love you more.
I love you as is.
Period. Full stop. I love you to the moon and around the milky way and all the way back here to your messy bedroom with the three day old underwear you’ve left lying next to your bottom bunk despite how many times I’ve asked you to pick them up.
There is nothing about you that I don’t love. Not your tummy troubles or your lisp or the fight you had with that kid who disrespected your friend.
There is nothing I want to erase about you and nothing I am embarrassed about you.
I take you. Period. Full stop.
And nothing is going to change that.
Nothing is going to stop me being your mom. Ever. Not middle school or how uncool I am or how you wish I wouldn’t kiss you at soccer drop off. Not how you style your hair and not what shoes you wear and not the choices you make.
Sad, maybe. Disappointed, yes, that sometimes. Angry and frustrated and irritated too.
But nothing will unhook this DNA that I have wrapped around your story as tight as the curls you insist we buzz off you every summer.
Nothing will unmake me your mother and nothing will infiltrate this space in my heart that belongs just to you.
You are part of my everything and you fill up all this nothing I didn’t know was aching away here in my heart.
You can push against me as hard as you did the day you came into this world and I will do what I did then.
I will bear down and I will deliver you into the world.
I will deliver you out of yourself and your whims and wants and demands. It will likely pain us both at times.
I might bite down until I taste blood but I will not back down.
I’m in it with you.
And you’re in it with me.
Push as hard as you can.
I’m not going anywhere.