Sometimes I get sad.  Not as much as I used to…but occasionally, the sad-dog comes and bites my ankles off, leaving me virtually handicapped.  For some whack reason, this time of year is one of the worst..it's been like that for years.  I've learned to stop fighting it and just roll with it.

On top of the sadness comes a big fat dollop of guilt when I think about what kind of effect this has on my daughter.  Am I screwing her up for life?  Condemning her against her will to a lifetime of shrinks, meds and anxiety attacks?  One thing I've always bent over backwards to do…be 100% open and honest about my emotions and that no matter what, I love her more than I have words for.

This guilt seems to magnify with each year she grows older and more aware of things.  But last week, that guilt went down a few notches when my daughter tapped my leg and said, "Here you go, Mama.  You go ahead and be sad.  I'm here to love you."  And she gave me this picture she'd drawn:

What more can a Mama hope for?  Nothing.  I'm ridiculously blessed to have this kid growing up beside me.  And that's all I have to say about that.