Ok, I like to think that everyone knows just how much I love my wee one but all at the same time, I know it's impossible for anyone to know what it's like to be me. So, I will try my hardest to explain it because I believe it is meaningful. If not to anyone else, it is to me.
Caution: May be sappy.
I could not possibly be more pleased with my child. I thank God for her each and every day, sometimes all day. No joke. Some days, I am just so overwhelmed with blessing that I literally sit there and thank God all day. I wonder what I did right to be able to deserve such a perfect gift and I have not figured it out yet. I think that surely I must have favor with the Lord for Him to have seen fit to bestow upon me such a child.
All the while, I am careful not to consider her 100% mine for we are all children of God and she is His creation, not mine. God chose me (lucky me) to watch over her, to bring her up and raise her, to be her earthly parent. I would have been grateful no matter who He gave me but I feel like I had a special place in God's heart when he decided to bless me with Amara.
And anytime I say me or I, I mean Andy and I.
Children are a blessing from God. Period. The Bible says. They are tiny, perfect versions of yourself that you get to mold and pour yourself into and then one day, let go into the world. And you hope that all that work you did pays off for this person because you love them unconditionally and want them to succeed. You get to watch them grow, you get to see them understand what you are teaching and use it in their life. Already, I see this.
I have always looked up to and respected my parents (duh, right? Well, some people don't feel this way about their parents and I feel very fortunate to be one who does). And now that I am a parent, I have new-found respect for them because I think they did a wonderful job and I hope I can be everything that they were. I have no complaints about my childhood.
Amara brings us so much joy. She is always happy, always content. Always giggling and laughing, rarely fussing. She has changed our home, there is a positive energy that resides here within that child. She is easy and it is impossible to be in a bad mood around her. I have read books, I have, in my pre-baby days, strained my ears to hear new moms talking about how hard it is in the beginning. Colicky babies, lack of sleep, leaving a screaming baby in the crib for 5 minutes while you step out on the porch to regain what sanity you can. Babies that won't sleep, babies that won't eat.
I have had it so easy with Amara. I think she is the exception, I really do. I think she must be. I know other moms love their children just as much as I do, but I don't know that many women get to enjoy brand new mommyhood like I have. We are 3 months into it now and I must admit that those first couple of weeks of juggling the new with the old feels surreal and quite zombie-ish. I just keep thinking that I will wake up one of these days to a fussy, much more demanding Amara (someone told me that yes, this will happen, when she hits about 13). But really, I think that content and happy is part of her personality. I think this might just be who she really is.
I would love her just the same if she was colicky. If she was fussy. If she was demanding or was born without an arm or with a disease or slow. I would love her just the same. But for now, I am oh so lucky, OH so blessed, oh SO smitten.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Moms, Moms and More Moms
It's 12:07 am and I'm all hyped up on tea. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous but I had some iced tea with dinner and I shouldn't have. I used to be able to drink caffeine all hours but I got pregnant and swore off the stuff for 9 months and now you'd think I'd shot some espresso. So I might as well get some things off my mommy mind. Here it is.
Now that I am a mom, I find myself thinking about my mom an awful lot.
Which is sad because my mom died two and a half years ago. And I miss her very badly again, all the sudden. Not that I ever stopped missing her, but I miss her differently. I never got the chance to go over my infanthood with her in detail. She should be here, a woman should have her mother there when she gives birth, along the journey to answer all the questions and provide wisdom... to comfort worries and understand and share the things that only mothers know.
Sometimes I look at Amara and I see my mother. People make assumptions about their children awfully early. They start when the baby is in utero. "Oh, he's going to be a challenge child" or "yes, she is a night owl", "I think she's going to be shy" or "rebellious". I did it too! And the moment the baby is born, "oh, he looks like daddy" or "she has her mothers' toes". But honestly, I swear that I see my mother in her. I think she is going to talk a lot, and be social just like my mom. And she already likes being without a diaper; my mom used to tell stories about how she would rip hers off (yes, I am looking forward to that. I'm already scheming a straightjacket).
I would like to pay homage to my mother now by relating to things she said about motherhood, the few things I caught over the years and actually remember. I feel deep sorrow for all things missed here, for I have been robbed of this special exchange from mother to a daughter who is now a mother.
1.) My mom used to talk about how she would get stopped in the store or various places by strangers to comment on what a beautiful baby I was. I now understand this, as it happens to me a lot. I never knew how friendly people would be, never knew my little one would be such a conversation starter. It makes my heart swell that others take such random joy in someone that means so much to me, my little munchkin.
2.) My mom used to talk about how when we were babies (my brother and I), she always thought each new phase we were in was funner than the last. I know Amara is only 3 months old but I have already experienced this strange mixture of feelings: "Don't grow up, stay just like this forever. But oh, wait, I can't wait for you to crawl" or "talk" or "eat solids". I'm suspended somewhere between don't ever grow up and hurry up, hit your next milestone already!
3.) For some mommy reason or another, I cannot go to bed with a messy kitchen. I can't do it. I used to be able to. Now, it's an inability. I do not have the ability to go to bed with the kitchen a mess. My mom had an immaculate house, always, but somehow I did not inherit that gene. I do not keep a tidy house, never have. But these days some mommy superpower has taken over and cleans the kitchen before bed. And Lysol the countertops for heaven's sakes the bottles touch those! I never in my life bought Lysol (wow, it is expensive!) until the wee one came along and someone laser-beamed my brain into obsessing over the kitchen.
So, that is the way I can relate to my mom, and I am sure that as time moves on I will find more and more ways I have in common with the mother she was. I think she would be proud if she were here, that I am coming into my mommyhood just fine. I desperately wish she were her for some momspeak but I am super blessed with many wonderful women in my life, and for that I have a thankful heart each and every day.
Now that I am a mom, I find myself thinking about my mom an awful lot.
Which is sad because my mom died two and a half years ago. And I miss her very badly again, all the sudden. Not that I ever stopped missing her, but I miss her differently. I never got the chance to go over my infanthood with her in detail. She should be here, a woman should have her mother there when she gives birth, along the journey to answer all the questions and provide wisdom... to comfort worries and understand and share the things that only mothers know.
Sometimes I look at Amara and I see my mother. People make assumptions about their children awfully early. They start when the baby is in utero. "Oh, he's going to be a challenge child" or "yes, she is a night owl", "I think she's going to be shy" or "rebellious". I did it too! And the moment the baby is born, "oh, he looks like daddy" or "she has her mothers' toes". But honestly, I swear that I see my mother in her. I think she is going to talk a lot, and be social just like my mom. And she already likes being without a diaper; my mom used to tell stories about how she would rip hers off (yes, I am looking forward to that. I'm already scheming a straightjacket).
I would like to pay homage to my mother now by relating to things she said about motherhood, the few things I caught over the years and actually remember. I feel deep sorrow for all things missed here, for I have been robbed of this special exchange from mother to a daughter who is now a mother.
1.) My mom used to talk about how she would get stopped in the store or various places by strangers to comment on what a beautiful baby I was. I now understand this, as it happens to me a lot. I never knew how friendly people would be, never knew my little one would be such a conversation starter. It makes my heart swell that others take such random joy in someone that means so much to me, my little munchkin.
2.) My mom used to talk about how when we were babies (my brother and I), she always thought each new phase we were in was funner than the last. I know Amara is only 3 months old but I have already experienced this strange mixture of feelings: "Don't grow up, stay just like this forever. But oh, wait, I can't wait for you to crawl" or "talk" or "eat solids". I'm suspended somewhere between don't ever grow up and hurry up, hit your next milestone already!
3.) For some mommy reason or another, I cannot go to bed with a messy kitchen. I can't do it. I used to be able to. Now, it's an inability. I do not have the ability to go to bed with the kitchen a mess. My mom had an immaculate house, always, but somehow I did not inherit that gene. I do not keep a tidy house, never have. But these days some mommy superpower has taken over and cleans the kitchen before bed. And Lysol the countertops for heaven's sakes the bottles touch those! I never in my life bought Lysol (wow, it is expensive!) until the wee one came along and someone laser-beamed my brain into obsessing over the kitchen.
So, that is the way I can relate to my mom, and I am sure that as time moves on I will find more and more ways I have in common with the mother she was. I think she would be proud if she were here, that I am coming into my mommyhood just fine. I desperately wish she were her for some momspeak but I am super blessed with many wonderful women in my life, and for that I have a thankful heart each and every day.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Beginning
Well, this is my beginning.
I am sitting here at the table...I woke up in the middle of the night and could not get back to sleep. I was sitting here thinking about the baby, thinking about how I can't wait for her to start sleeping in her own room because I am just itching to write before bed every night (and that is the only reason because I would keep her attached to me if it was practical). By time my little muneca (that's doll in spanish) falls asleep at night I am spent and find myself retiring for the evening as well.
I am a new mommy. My Amara Mae is two months old and I was just thinking what a shame it would be to not capture our new adventure in words. This is an experience I want to share - it is too sweet to keep to myself. Because finally, my life is filled with baby giggles. My house is filled with toys and high chair and "exersaucer". Baby blankets. Dr. Seuss. These walls finally echo coos, and reflect gummy grins. It's finally here, this, which I have been waiting for and anticipating for years...mommyhood.
Papa Bear makes a bottle and asks me the question we ask each other when he is home, "Do you want feed her or do you want me to?" I love to watch him with the baby, sitting on the couch with her in his arms, tapping her nose and speaking softly as though they have a secret. Andy and I have been married for over 2 years now, have been together more than 6. I knew he would be a wonderful father, if I could just get him to agree it was a good idea. But he is more than wonderful. He's amazing. He is gentle and loving, concerned and involved. He is everything a new daddy should be to his baby girl.
So that is us. And now, this is the story of our lives.
I am sitting here at the table...I woke up in the middle of the night and could not get back to sleep. I was sitting here thinking about the baby, thinking about how I can't wait for her to start sleeping in her own room because I am just itching to write before bed every night (and that is the only reason because I would keep her attached to me if it was practical). By time my little muneca (that's doll in spanish) falls asleep at night I am spent and find myself retiring for the evening as well.
I am a new mommy. My Amara Mae is two months old and I was just thinking what a shame it would be to not capture our new adventure in words. This is an experience I want to share - it is too sweet to keep to myself. Because finally, my life is filled with baby giggles. My house is filled with toys and high chair and "exersaucer". Baby blankets. Dr. Seuss. These walls finally echo coos, and reflect gummy grins. It's finally here, this, which I have been waiting for and anticipating for years...mommyhood.
Papa Bear makes a bottle and asks me the question we ask each other when he is home, "Do you want feed her or do you want me to?" I love to watch him with the baby, sitting on the couch with her in his arms, tapping her nose and speaking softly as though they have a secret. Andy and I have been married for over 2 years now, have been together more than 6. I knew he would be a wonderful father, if I could just get him to agree it was a good idea. But he is more than wonderful. He's amazing. He is gentle and loving, concerned and involved. He is everything a new daddy should be to his baby girl.
So that is us. And now, this is the story of our lives.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
