The Moment We Met
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| The moment we met |
One of the nurses swaddled him and handed him to my husband Will, and Will held our brand-new son close to my face so I could touch his tiny, soft head, and I started to sing a lullaby I had been singing to him throughout my pregnancy. As soon as I started to sing, he stopped crying, and was quiet through the entire song. It was, in one word, magical.
Every day, I see flashes of baby and little boy alternating before my eyes.
Three years have passed, and it is more magical than ever. Every day, he's learning new words. I soak in the sound of him saying "banilla" instead of "vanilla" or "lellow" for "yellow", knowing he will correct it soon enough. There is so much "I want to do it myself, Mama!" but still "Help you, Mama" when he needs assistance.
He still wants to be carried sometimes, and it is a rare occasion that I will tell him that I can't. Even if my hands are full, I'll do my best to shift things around and hold him on one hip, one of his small arms resting on my back. At thirty-some pounds, carrying him is a workout. Often, it's the only workout I can fit into my day. In fact, this past weekend, I carried him both down and up five flights of stairs at the convention center parking garage. I'm still catching my breath.
Lately, he has wanted me to hold him in my arms and sing "Rock a Bye Baby" a few times before gently placing him into his bed. These are moments I hold in my heart now, because it won't be long before he will ask me to stop cuddling him. It's almost too much to bear, as a mother, even knowing that we must let our children grow and change in order to fly.
There are so many poignant moments to cherish and enjoy at this age. He is sweet, and funny, and smart. I am so proud of him. I love him with every cell of my heart.
Along with the sweet and lovely and wonderful moments, there are some lessons I've learned in these last three years - some amusing, and some heart-tweaking. A few of my observations, so far:
1) Don't wear white pants to a child's birthday party... unless you don't like them very much. Stain remover can only be expected to go so far.
2) Potty training is hilarious: chasing a boy sans clothing around the house with a wad of toilet paper is an experience that will give you laughs when he is a teenager. I can say, "Hey, stop talking to me like that! I wiped your hindquarters and your tears in your younger years."
3) Give in to his obsessions. Right now it's fire trucks and baseball and later it will be girls and cars.
4) Used judiciously, TV will not turn him into an unimaginative couch potato.
5) You may regret letting him learn the words to "Call Me Maybe" and "Moves Like Jagger" but right now it's a little funny.
6) Being awakened at 2:30 AM to carry him into bed with you is a small price to pay for an "I love you, Mommy; you're the best mommy ever," first thing in the morning.
7) Don't beat yourself up for losing your patience sometimes. It's going to happen.
I always wanted to be a mother, and I didn't know the depth of why until September 4, 2009. The joy envelops me; it overwhelms me sometimes. The responsibility is immense. My life, until the day he was born, was excellent. But it was the moment he was born that it went from excellent to indescribable. Of course, there are challenging moments, but they are a drop in the bucket compared to the joy. I have been building the skills to be a good mom my whole life - by observation, by practice, and now, in real time.
Thank you, my son, for being you. You're everything I ever wanted, and I want you to know that.
Always.
Happy birthday, sweet baby boy. My life has never been better than it is at this moment.
I love you.
