And therefore I spontaneously burst into a zillion pieces.

Sometimes a mama is just so full of pride and love for her child that, if it were not so endearing and utterly precious, one could easily get a bit nauseous from the ooey, gooey emotion that gushes forth.

I'm just sayin.'

There was the time my daughter wanted to pick out a locket for her Memama. She was about 3 years old, smack dab in the middle of a Disney Princess phase. We went to McRae's and purchased a lovely locket for Mama. My daughter picked it out after some very deep thought. I thought it was the sweetest thing she had ever wanted to do for someone.

Until we were on our way home.

While on the drive home, she started to reconsider her gift purchase. It turned out that she changed her mind. She didn't want to give this locket to Memama anymore.

She wanted to give it to Jesus.

If you are wondering how I didn't break down in a blubbering cry right then and there and wreck our Camry, well it must have been the Good Lord Himself who literally steered me home. I was so overwhelmed by this innocent, pure display of devotion that I could hardly contain myself.

After a long explanation of how it would be very hard to literally wrap and deliver this locket in person to Jesus, and that He was just touched by her desire to give it to Him, and the fact that Memama would be equally touched, my daughter reconsidered and we did give the locket to her Memama. Whew.

The thing about parenthood is that you aren't only proud for your child. There are also types of pride. Yes, there are. I will attempt to distinguish them all for you in yet another completely scientific study.

There is the pride you feel when they cleaned their room without a request, the "What a lovely picture! What is it?" pride, a pride that lumps up in your throat when your child wants to help others, including homeless cats and dogs, the "I am so glad you did your very best!" report card pride, and the ever popular "My kid is the absolute, most-wonderful child in the universe because I birthed her after nearly 48 hours of labor and an epidural that wore off, but no one believed me" pride. That last one will get you. Look out. You don't want to be TOO obnoxious.

Overall, most normal, relatively stable parents have a healthy pride for their kids. Call it thankfulness. Call it delusion. Call it what you will. Kids need our love and they need to believe we really value their accomplishments.

So, you won't mind if I gloat. Most of you are Mama's, too. You understand.

Today my daughter's teacher met me at car line. It hasn't been officially announced or anything, but since you really don't know where I live or if I am really a southern girl with an attitude about geography and the post office, I'll go ahead and tell the news.

My daughter won a creative writing contest for her grade. Creative writing, people. Not math. Creative writing. (For you new readers, I'm not an analytical, mathematical genius. That would be from my husband's DNA.) OK. I'm not saying that I had anything whatsoever to do with the fact that my offspring won a writing contest. All good and perfect gifts are from above, after all.

I'm just sayin.'

CREATIVE WRITING!

I deserve all caps. I do. I am just so full of pride right now. And I am very thankful, really, that God has blessed our little, humble family. He has. And thankful that He has filled my daughter with nearly the same amount of excitement I am filled with at this bloggity moment.

I'm not quite as excited as I was on the day she was born, but almost. I am, however, quite glad that this type of excitement does not involve an IV and an anesthesiologist who lives in denial.

I promise to post a copy of her poem as soon as I get a copy. From what I hear, it is quite thought-provoking and deeply moving. It is a poem about silliness. :>)

I know. Call The New York Times. We may have a best-seller on our hands.