Day 150: Being Mom

February 23, 2011

The more I learn about raising another human being, the more amazed I am at how complex we all are and how many little factors go into shaping each of us. That the first few years of our lives are such an important time for brain development is just one aspect, albeit an incredible one. Throw in the huge importance of physical touch and then the emotional and social aspects and suddenly things get even more complicated. 

Most times I do just go by my feelings. Thankfully I have some good gut instincts combined with a good upbringing and lots of work on myself that helps me make good choices throughout a typical day. But these are the glory days of parenting. In many ways, the easiest, most carefree days that I will look back on with bittersweet emotions some day in the not-too-distant future. I will wish for my sweet little boy who is not self-conscious enough now to worry about things like who he is and other people's opinions and what is cool or not. He openly loves me, cuddles with me, views me as an all-powerful and knowing being. I create the world around him in so many ways. What am I giving to him that is shaping him even now? When will I not be able to make his world better? How will I fail him, not seeing what he needs, not being able to provide it even when I do see? 

Many people parent, some better than others. Some people do not have time for these philosophical questions, concerned more with basic needs than the inner workings of their children.  Maybe it's a blessing and a curse because here I am, at 2am, worrying about Jacob's life years ahead of now: what he's going to encounter in the world, how he's going to handle it, what he'll think of himself. Perhaps this will be like many things, more scary in my imagination than in real life. I can only hope so. I can only hope that when a time comes, I will make a good choice, I will support him in the way he needs, I will hang on enough but be able to let go also. That I will always be able to show him how much I love him. 

For now, I will take our early mornings together when the first words out of his mouth are, "Mommy. Mommy come in now." I will read him book after book after book, sitting in my old red chair for 45 minutes or more sometimes, the same chair my mother sat in with me. When he says, "Mommy play now" I will (try) to stop my brain from feverishly figuring out all the things I'm "supposed" to do that day, and I will play. I will play cars and trains and make crafts and eat plastic vegetable soup and read and answer questions and cuddle and get up and do it all over again the next day. For now, he is my perfect boy, my baby and the beginning of a human being who is figuring out what it means to be.