Dear Little Boogin Head,
Another month has already gone by.
I suppose I should stop saying that now, because it is always going to feel that way, like time is just passing.
Surprisingly, this month doesn't have a specific moment that sums up how the month progressed, try as I might to think of one. It sort of bothers me that I don't have that continuity, but I think it is yet another reminder that continuity is kind of a joke when you have a baby.
This month saw you become a kid, like a real kid. You aren't a tiny little bundle who only knows how to cry and eat and sleep. We can see glimpses of the person you will become someday, and wonder what you will be like. Sometimes we see glimpses of how you will be like mama and daddy, and how you have things in you that are all on your own. We can see a kid who will feel better if he can be outside and drive fast with the windows down (like daddy). A kid who might get upset and frustrated easily until he realizes it's not really that big of a deal (like mama). A kid who likes music and reading and talking and singing (like mama), but can also spend time observing and focusing on a task (like daddy).
Then there is the part that is all you: arms so busy that they wake you up in the night, and legs that never stop moving. Strong, strong leg muscles that like to stand, with mama's hands only to balance you. Will you be an athlete? You will have to learn that from someone else. You like to be held all day, but don't mind sleeping by yourself all night. If there is any light to be seen, you need to be near it, but if it is dark, you can be by yourself. Will you be super social and in the middle of everything? Or will you be okay with being alone?
We see these things in you everyday.
When you are upset, you calm down and listen if I sing to you. Right now I sing "Dare to Stand Like Joshua" and "Sing and Be Happy" while I change your diaper, and you stop crying. I sing "I Will" and "Living for Jesus" when you are just about to fall asleep in your bed, and your face as you relax and close your eyes almost makes mama cry every night.
Sometimes you still get really, really angry about something (I almost said "angry about nothing" but I suppose it is not nothing to you. You are angry about something, I just don't know what it is!), and then if mama or daddy holds you in just the right way, or you find something to look at, or the windows are down and you feel the breeze or you get your finger in your mouth you stop crying like "Oh, okay. It's not that big of a deal."
You seem to focus on books and poor you to have a teacher as a mama. She can't just let you look at the pictures without asking you comprehension questions or pointing out "O" for Owen.
You like looking in the mirror on your little activity mat. You seem thrilled to see the happy baby that looks back at you, and then get scared and nervous when a fussy baby is looking back at you. You like to kick your feet and move the hanging toys, and you seem to be focusing on being more deliberate with your hands and feet.
If anything, the only real struggle for this month of your life was how mama felt. Mama is known for solving problems that face her, and for not enjoying feelings of uncertainty. If there is a problem I can't solve, I turn my back to it. Being your mama has proven to be a challenge to me, because I can't "solve" you. I can't organize our lives in a way that makes sense to me, I can't plan our time in the fashion I am used to, and list making doesn't work for me any more. To put it scientifically, becoming your mama is a shift from a paradigm I am used to, to a paradigm that I can't seem to define. Normally, I know I am doing a good job from the internal factor of crossing things off of lists and the external factors of students learning, or compliments from others. You are not a list, you don't have a curriculum, and you aren't measurable. None of these things are bad (they are freeing, in fact), they are just confusing.
Add to that that mama is not too pleased with how clothes fit her, and that sometimes she still feels and thinks crazy, and you get mama's freak out moments.
What is funny, though, is that I am up for it, and I know it.
I have never trusted my instincts more, or felt more sure that I will figure it out.
It came to me recently that my biggest struggle is not dealing with waking up, or taking care of you, or losing weight, but patience. I don't like to be patient (waiting in line makes me want to explode) and I was not expecting that you would be my biggest opportunity to learn it.
I guess it takes patience, to learn patience.
On a ligher note, I don't feel nervous to take you anywhere, at any time. I have fed you while walking in Target, I have dealt with you crying in the middle of the mall and have stood in restaurants while everyone else ate. I discovered the fun of dressing you (and went a little crazy buying things for you) now that you can hold your head up and things fit you a little better. You smile at everyone at church, and almost sat through a whole sermon yesterday.
Honestly, you are the best thing ever. You are laying on the floor right now, kicking your feet and chewing your hand. You are starting to get fussy, because no one is looking at you, or talking to you. I am okay with knowing that you just want to be held, so that is what I am going to do.
Love,
Mama
No comments:
Post a Comment