The Rough Thumb

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I’ve got you for now, babe.

Last week, during the height of our Sickness Apocalypse, my daughter WHO NEVER SITS, somehow landed herself on my lap for a minute.

Was I being punked? Had someone traded out the little girl for a look-alike angel while I had been scrubbing a toilet?

In any case, we cozied up on the couch to catch up on Monsters University and she did that precious perfect thing where she just sort of “fell” against my chest.  If you’ve ever held a relaxed young kid, you know what I mean.  And you know how it’s as close to Heaven on Earth that we can get.

I shifted my weight to get comfy and then began stroking her neck with my thumb–a motion soothing to both her and me.

Against the soft sweetness of her baby skin, I felt the roughness of my thumb.  The thing is, as thumbs go, mine is in decent shape.  I lather up my hands with foot cream before bed. Oh crap, I just publicly pronounced this.  I buy the Mary Kay Satin Hands set from my friend with her seller’s discount. And I use it.

My hands, my thumbs–they aren’t terrible.  But they are 34 years old.  34 years of bumps, life lessons, and hard knocks.  Her skin is young.  It is innocent.  It has yet to meet life for all it’s worth–hard and gentle.  Undoubtedly, as she rocks through this world, she’ll find the calluses; she’ll meet the wear and tear.  She’ll grow.  And I would want nothing less for her.

The thing is, I’m not raising a princess.  I’m raising a child of God.  A child who will walk on this earth, who I pray will not allow life to pummel her down, but fortify her.  When she falls, may she get back up.  When she bruises, may she heal and be all the stronger for it.

I’m not betting the farm that she’ll plop in my lap again soon, but I’m grateful for the time she did.  It’s a reminder that she is sweet and gentle, as she should be.  It’s a reminder that I have toughened up a bit, as I should have.  My prayer for her is that she will follow in the same steps.  May someday life beat her up a bit, roughen those thumbs.  But then someday may it give her a baby child of her own so she can appreciate the blessing that comes through the toughness of living.

Perfectly soft skin is fantastic, but it’s not real.  Thanks for being a perfect angel now, little one, but when you get ready to go harden up those hands–I’ll be waiting with the foot cream.

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Meredith

Meredith blogs at The Mom of the Year, where she dedicatedly earns her title one epic parenting fail at a time, offering quick, relatable laughs for fellow parents and all their empathizers. She has been part of several best-selling anthologies, featured on prominent sites such as Huffington Post, In the Powder Room and BlogHer, and loves her role as the Executive VP/Operations Manager of The BlogU Conference. When she's not breaking up fights over Legos and juice boxes, she remains fully committed to sharing a less serious look at the world of parenting.

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