I am a real mother, because God has trusted me with the care of a real daughter.

I am a real mother, because when after much concentration she crossed her fingers for the first time, I made fourteen long-distance phone calls to spread the big news.

I am a real mother, because when she fell and knocked out her front tooth, I cried longer than she did.

I am a real mother, because I carry 2,428 pictures of her at all times, and am only too willing to explain how I know she is the prettiest, smartest, happiest child ever born.

I am a real mother, because when that pretty, smart, happy child becomes whiny, stubborn and unhappy I tell Daddy to take care of his daughter.

I am a real mother, because when I sent her to stay with her Grandma so I could get some studying done, I couldn't study because I was too busy calling Grandma to be sure everything was all right.

I am a real mother, because now I say to my own Mom, "How did you ever raise three kids?"

I am a real mother, because only a real mother would crawl around the living room on all fours saying "Ree-hee-hee-hee" "Horhey, Mom? Horhey!"

I am a real mother, because when she put s her arms around my neck and says, "Mommy, That I used to say "hot fudge sundae", the joy and love I feel is real.

Credits: Cheryl Tillman