Young Julianna Byers
I believe 2015 will go down as one of the best years of all for me. This is the year I am finally getting a girl!
I am surrounded by males – I have a husband and three fine sons and two male dogs – and I am not complaining. (But I did buy pink lace onesies and ruffled baby blankets when the doctor said my baby’s heartbeat was rapid. Or slow. Whichever speed I deduced indicated the little thing growing inside of me might be a female.)
My middle son is getting married to a beautiful young woman who is funny and smart and encouraging and loving. And a joy to be around. On top of all that she is stylish.
She thinks my son is wonderful, laughs at all of my jokes (so far), and eats anything I cook (for the most part). But the true test involves the dogs’ affection, and they both choose her hands-down over any of her long-time faithful and long-suffering masters.
I am so happy for my son, but I must admit I am almost as happy for myself. I finally have someone to talk to about easy cake recipes and dog outfits and Pinterest. I don’t even care that she likes football. Of course we haven’t watched a game together yet, so she may, like my husband, forbid me to yammer on about table decorations during the important plays.
She never makes me feel like I am bugging her when I call, or text or email, unlike my genetic offspring who tend not to acknowledge my voice mails. And I call, text or email her often. My husband says too often.
“Who are you texting?” he asks me accusatorily.
I lie and tell him it is my boss. But it’s usually my little daughter-in-law-to be.
She is in on my deception and promises she has my back – she just looks at my husband blankly when he asks if I’m harassing her by my incessant correspondence. (I might add “so far” here.)
But if my worst flaw is hounding her, I can live with that. I’ve given her permission not to answer every time I call. But I want her to know she is treasured. And important. And that she will always be.
Of course, the most important thing is the look on my son’s face when he talks about her, or even looks at her. Or told us that he asked her to marry him. Mothers understand that look.
Julianna Byers is everything I hoped to have in a daughter. I think I’ll just text that to her now.