The Best Christmas Gift

"You're so brave, Momma."

I think every woman wants to hear that phrase from her children at some point in her life. I know I hoped to hear it some day. But I wasn't expecting to hear it coming from my 2 and a half year old.

Yesterday was Christmas. Yesterday also sucked. My son and daughter are sick, my son is teething (which means I have gotten 2 hours of sleep in the past 48 hours), my family is scattered hither and yon, I had a whining induced headache, and my husband was exhausted because he had been up until 2:30 in the morning wrapping my Christmas presents. So yesterday didn't go exactly as I wanted.

Somewhere in all of this, I had to make a dessert for Christmas dinner with the in laws. I had wanted to make a Chocolate Mocha Creme Trifle. Doesn't that sound delicious? The picture looked great too. But I didn't read the recipe all the way through, so I started to make it at 11. For dinner at 4. When step 12 of the recipe called for refrigerating the trifle for 8-12 hours.

Still, when I got to that step, I gritted my teeth and soldiered on, turning the trifle into a cake instead. I figured a cake wouldn't need to set for 8-12 hours. I put it in the fridge, forgot about it, and went to take a nap.

At 3, I went to pull the trifle-cake out of the fridge.... it was a mess. The icing didn't set properly and there was chocolate mocha creme icing ALL over my fridge. I couldn't handle it. I sank down onto the kitchen floor, fighting back tears. Christmas was not going the way I had foolishly pictured in my head, and now I had f@#%ed up dessert.

My husband gave me a hug, told me he loved me, and manipulated me into the car. We drove by 3 different places, looking for a dessert - all closed. We made it to my in law's empty handed (except for two boxes full of presents), but they were all really cool with it - my sister in law had picked up an ice cream cake, so it worked out.

Back at home that night, my daughter played while I was curled up on the couch, pretending that it wasn't 2 hours past her bedtime. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and just wanted the damn day to be over. As I thought about the day and how it didn't go the way I wanted, I started to cry. At that point, my daughter came over to me and gave me a hug.

"You're so brave, Momma," she told me, petting my hair. "Don't cry. You okay. I love you too much. You need me kiss it better?"

Naturally, this made me cry harder and laugh at the same time. Her comforting me was completely unexpected. But it was exactly what I needed to hear to make my day better.

Granted, I tell my daughter the same thing exactly every time she gets hurt, or sad, or upset. And I know that she was probably just mimicking my "mommy" behavior when she saw me crying. But I don't care. In that moment, I got a glimpse of the woman she is going to be. And I am so proud of her.