A Priceless Sticker.
To you, this sticker is worthless. Maybe worth a quarter at most. But today, this sticker meant the world to me. Let me explain. My oldest daughter and I have been through a lot over the last 6 years being together. She was our first long term foster placement and we have been together most of her life. She is a hilarious, silly. smart, fun little girl, but most of my memories of trying to nurture her have been anything but who she normally is.
When T$ (this was her nick name as a child - pronounced: T-money) was two years old, I vividly remember a traumatic day (for myself) when my older sister held her down as she was screaming in horror as I cut her toenails. To her, it was terrifying and horrible. Another vivid memory of trying to take care of my sweet girl was after getting her ears pierced. I ended up taking them out a month or two later because she kept screaming every time I wanted to clean them. Needless to say, she is hard to take care of & nurture - even in the simple things.
But today, I had to take her to urgent care for what I thought was a UTI, but was actually over a months accumulation of constipation. (Sorry if that is TMI...mom's don't really care about TMI) She has been in pain for probably a while, but I had not understood the extent to it because my little warrior of a child has such a high pain tolerance and doesn't communicate her ailments well. So, feeling like a horrible mom, I helped her through all of the steps the hospital required of her today - helped her pee in a cup (which is much more complicated than it sounds when you have a 6 year old), held her hand during a procedure and let her and some of her brothers watch funny animal videos on my phone while we awaited the results of her x-ray. I held her hand through a lot of a rough day - including many things I will spare you the details of, but did it all without thinking - as us moms often do.
I honestly didn't think much of it when I gave her the sticker the nurse had given her (that I had found in my pocket) hours later. Within a minute, she had put it on my shirt - which my kids do from time to time. Hours pasted and it was bedtime. After all her siblings were off to bed, I helped her get ready for bed, talked to her about how proud I was of her and how she handled herself so well today. I noticed the sticker on my shirt and asked her if she'd like it on her pajamas. Instead of ripping it off my shirt as I expected, she responded, "No, Mommy. I want you to have it. You took care of me when I needed you to today."
I sweetly thanked her and moved on with the chaos of the bedtime routine, but as I came downstairs when all the kids were asleep and saw the sticker on my shirt, I couldn't help but be so grateful for days like these: days where I could be a rock for my daughter. All the days of struggle to care for her had finally paid off. The years of ignoring her pushing me away when I did what she needed, even when it was against her will was worth it. Today, I was just Tashari's mom. I was there when she needed me. I wasn't her foster mom. I wasn't her adoptive mom. I was just her mom. And she thanked me in the perfect way - with a gift that meant something to her - a priceless sticker.
When T$ (this was her nick name as a child - pronounced: T-money) was two years old, I vividly remember a traumatic day (for myself) when my older sister held her down as she was screaming in horror as I cut her toenails. To her, it was terrifying and horrible. Another vivid memory of trying to take care of my sweet girl was after getting her ears pierced. I ended up taking them out a month or two later because she kept screaming every time I wanted to clean them. Needless to say, she is hard to take care of & nurture - even in the simple things.But today, I had to take her to urgent care for what I thought was a UTI, but was actually over a months accumulation of constipation. (Sorry if that is TMI...mom's don't really care about TMI) She has been in pain for probably a while, but I had not understood the extent to it because my little warrior of a child has such a high pain tolerance and doesn't communicate her ailments well. So, feeling like a horrible mom, I helped her through all of the steps the hospital required of her today - helped her pee in a cup (which is much more complicated than it sounds when you have a 6 year old), held her hand during a procedure and let her and some of her brothers watch funny animal videos on my phone while we awaited the results of her x-ray. I held her hand through a lot of a rough day - including many things I will spare you the details of, but did it all without thinking - as us moms often do.
I honestly didn't think much of it when I gave her the sticker the nurse had given her (that I had found in my pocket) hours later. Within a minute, she had put it on my shirt - which my kids do from time to time. Hours pasted and it was bedtime. After all her siblings were off to bed, I helped her get ready for bed, talked to her about how proud I was of her and how she handled herself so well today. I noticed the sticker on my shirt and asked her if she'd like it on her pajamas. Instead of ripping it off my shirt as I expected, she responded, "No, Mommy. I want you to have it. You took care of me when I needed you to today."
I sweetly thanked her and moved on with the chaos of the bedtime routine, but as I came downstairs when all the kids were asleep and saw the sticker on my shirt, I couldn't help but be so grateful for days like these: days where I could be a rock for my daughter. All the days of struggle to care for her had finally paid off. The years of ignoring her pushing me away when I did what she needed, even when it was against her will was worth it. Today, I was just Tashari's mom. I was there when she needed me. I wasn't her foster mom. I wasn't her adoptive mom. I was just her mom. And she thanked me in the perfect way - with a gift that meant something to her - a priceless sticker.
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