To the girl who will someday marry my son

There's a little girl out there right now who has no clue how badly she's going to blow up my world someday.

She will steal my son's heart one day and he's going to leave me for her. Ok, yes he's only 10 years old right now but, faster than I can blink, I know you'll be here, dear girl. And I can hardly breathe thinking about it.

I don't know you yet, but I think about you a lot, little girl. I don't know if you have brown hair or blonde, if you have blue eyes or green, if you like sports or play the piano, if you're left-handed or not (or if you'll even BE a girl for that matter, but that’s a conversation for another day with him!) But I do know this: Shit will get real when we meet and you are going to want to run. Please don't.

Let me apologize to you in advance for the fact that you'll have me as a mother-in-law. You probably could have definitely done better than me. But you won't, in a zillion years, find someone better than my son. So please, don't run. I might scare you off. I'm going to be the most brutally honest, somewhat obnoxious, slightly inappropriate albeit goofy middle-aged woman you'll ever know. And you may think I drink too much wine —but you'll understand that later.

In the beginning, I will probably ask you a shit ton of questions, some that will embarrass you. I may grill you on what kind of upbringing you had or ask you about your parents. I will probably quiz you about your goals in life and whether you want to work or stay home. I will likely want to know EVERY. THING. ABOUT. YOU. It's going to feel like you are the prime suspect in a CSI episode and I'm David f-ing Caruso.

You see, his daddy already left. He had to get to heaven, so my son became the man of the house a little sooner than any boy should. It's been he and I for a while and he is everything in the world to me. So remember, it's going to be agony for me to let him go. Keep that in mind when he takes your hand instead of mine someday. I will try and remember too, that he picked you for a reason, so I'm going to do my damndest to respect you because of it.

I won't say a word about your wedding —how or where to have it or offer any advice unless you ask me. I won't ask invasive questions about when you will have kids or how many you want. I will definitely not meddle with your pregnancy, suggest baby names or ask to come in your delivery room. I won't tell you where you should live - the suburbs or the city. I won't tell you how you should get a dog before kids or where to vacation. I won't belittle you or your choices and I will never say a discouraging word about you to anyone, least of all my son.

I will, however, probably tell you about my wedding day and the way I felt standing up there on the altar with my son's father —so in love that those expensive flowers, massive cake and poofy dress didn't matter one bit. I will tell you about how I dreamed in the months and years after that we would have a little boy who could someday carry on the family name. I'll probably tell you about the day our son was born and the look on my husband's face when he told me it was a boy —the day I fell in love with a boy so deeply it scared me to tears.

I'll likely tell you how we changed his name several times in that hospital room before finally naming him. I will gladly share with you the joy (and misery) that colicky, cranky baby boy caused us in the first few years of his life living in a two-bedroom farmhouse.

I'll tell you about all the friends he made when we moved to the suburbs and that he learned to ride a bike on his first try in the driveway and nearly broke his arm falling off the neighbor's scooter. I'm probably going to show you my favorite pictures of his beautiful, brown eyes and goofy grin —especially the shots of him tightly clutching our German shepherd who used to lick his baby face every day, chase him around, and greet him off the bus up until the night he cried himself to sleep when she died.

I may tell you about my son's love for the sandy, white beaches of Florida's Gulf Coast —a place he's vacationed every year since he was a baby —where he built his first sandcastle, learned to skimboard effortlessly and where he first parasailed. I won't have to tell you about how he gets the most perfect dark brown tan after he's been in the sun for a day or so, despite all the sunscreen he applies.

I'm going to warn you of my son's intensity —the way he always strived for straight As on his tests or his determination to be the best in every sport he played. You'll probably already know what a great athlete he is and how he could easily save an upper 90 shot from getting past him in the soccer goal —but I'll probably tell you anyway. I will tell you how he has been a perfectionist his whole life, and loves order and organization. It started when he sorted playroom toys at age 2.

I'm going to tell you about the love he has for his sisters, despite the times he terrorized or picked on them in his adolescence. His protection for them came early —he was 4 when he saved his baby sister from falling down a flight of stairs when we weren't looking. And let's not forget the sound of his laughter, I won’t. He has the same boisterous laugh as his momma —we really did get a kick out of a good fart joke or a silly episode of Pickle and Peanut, I'm definitely going to tell you.

I'm trying not to screw him up too badly for you, little girl. He's still a work in progress. He's probably not going to be the most patient person in the world —you're going to have to blame me for that one. Sometimes you may have to say his name about three... seven... ok nine times before he ever answers you. He can't close a toilet seat to save his life or rinse out a bowl in the sink... but he eats his meals meticulously over the table and doesn't drop a crumb on the floor. And he knows how to hang up his shower towels and put his laundry away without me nagging.

He will be able to teach your children how to figure out the Rubik's Cube in under two minutes or do an impossible math problem. And since he spent the better part of age 7-10 putting together billion-piece Lego sets, he will no doubt be able to easily assemble IKEA furniture or even rewire your house if need be. I made him into a good snuggler for you. He promised me at age 3 he'd never stop giving me hugs, but something tells me he'll be hugging you more than me someday.

His heart is exponentially sweeter than mine —so if he sees a homeless man on the street, he'll most likely give him money. I'm trying to teach him to love people no matter what color they are or where they come from or what they believe. I'm telling him to be a friend to someone when no one else will. I'm expecting him to be good and kind and brave for you.

So when the day comes, take care of him, little girl. It will be misery letting him go. Mothers of boys are a special, crazy breed. We adore our boys to pieces. We cherish them unfathomably. We have an indescribable love for them —something you won't ever understand. That is, of course, until you have a son of your own.

We'll have to open a bottle of wine then, and that's when you'll understand.


  1. I'm not crying. You're crying!
    So glad I found your amazing blog. We are also in KY, transplants from CA, and recently became parents to a B/G twins. I never thought I could love something so much. It feels like I'll break from it sometimes. And the bond between a mother and son is one I could never even fathom.
    Looking forward to more posts ❤

    1. Lol thanks for finding me! Yes, you know it girl... so long as I breathe, I will write.
      Hang in there with twins. My husband and I used to tell people, if you can make it through the first year, you’ll be ok.
      Thanks so much for reading πŸ™πŸ˜˜ be sure to check in once in a while 😘


  2. This is my prayer for you not just for today but forever:

    Lord you know our every thought, our every concern and hear our every prayer.

    You know what we need.

    When we surrender to you our steps are planned.

    Bless this mighty woman of Yours. Give her strength, and courage. Give her favor with all. Let her enemies be defeated before they take one step. Let all who see her and gaze upon her countenance know that you are in her. That you are and have always been her Strength, her Joy and her Song. Give to her the capacity to take in those things that you want to teach her. Give her strength to stand firm when she sees anything that may contradict your will and your way. Give her eyes of wisdom. Give her the capacity to see others as you see them. Their brokenness, pain, joy, and their potential. Make her one of your blessed servants.

    Gift her with the knowledge that she is all the Father desires.
    Though just like me there are many others that love her and care for her. That your desires and care are so much greater, so much stronger, and everlasting.

    Give her the ability to pass all the test of body, mind, and spirit. When her body aches because of the physical test sustain her with strength as you did with so many others in your word. When her mind is perplexed, or if she is using lots of brain power prove as you did with Daniel and his three friends, that the servants of the Lord are better, stronger, and more wise.

    Keep her safe for us. And Lord comfort her when her spirit is attacked, strengthen it so she may strengthen others, and they all may recognize this great woman, and rise up and call her mother blessed, and rise up and see her father is a mirror image of you.

    We know you Lord are her Strength, Shield and Mighty Fortress. To you we ascribe all power, and majesty, and awe.

    Let her know the surpassing love that you give freely. Let her share that love with others freely. Let those of us that love her be sure that you have answered our prayer.

    I ask all these things but you already know that she needs them. You were already answering the prayer before I even spoke it or wrote it.

    Assure her Lord that she is your Child, your Bride, and your Love.

    We ask all these things because we receive all you have told us, and that we can boldly ask.

    Amen, Amen, Amen

  3. My wife and I am hoping for twins, me 47 and she is 46, we have a 3 year boy now, but my wife wants 2 daughters, so hoping for twins, my son already just about kills me and had the nickname of "Deatheater" from Harry Potter, so twins will put me in the grave ... lol

  4. I found you on, but I think God led me here. We lost my dad very unexpectedly when I was 16 and my brother 10. My mom was lost. We were lost. It was a very hard road back to some form of realness. Never sameness, NEVER wholeness, but realness.

    20 years later, I'm living in the house I grew up in, right next door to my [still single] mom, raising twin boys of my own. They're adopted, but one of them is so much like my dad, it's unreal. His mannerisms, his competitive nature, even his toes! They would've been inseparable. Anywho, be strong, mama, but be vulnerable too. If I learned anything on this journey, it's that it's okay to not be okay. Nobody gets to tell you when to box up your grief and move on. If you want to get it out periodically and love on it like holiday decor, you do that. If you want to keep it around all the time like throw pillows, you do that too. It's YOURS and your kids'. You guys will know when you're ready to move into a new "realness". Let God, your faith, and your heart be your guide. ❤ from an Okie


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