Most likely, it's nothing

It’s nothing. Most likely it’s nothing, I tell myself for the 100th time. I take a deep breath and move on.

Five minutes later, I pause to look at my middle daughter, with her beautiful, smooth hair hanging straight. The kind of hair I’ve always longed for. She swings it off her face with a slight jerk of her head and catches me watching her. She smiles slowly. I’m never quite sure what she is thinking. She seems so tough, her thoughts well hidden. But I am her mom and I know there is a depth to her she doesn’t let surface for others to see.

I suddenly feel like shrieking, “She needs me! I have to be here for her.”


You can read the rest over at Mamalode, an online parenting magazine I recently discovered. I’m excited to have an essay posted on their site (even if it is a distressing subject). And while you’re there, check out Stacey Conner’s writing. She’s amazing.

[And so that no one worries, Monday came and went, and it is nothing.]