The last time I moved around in my own home this quietly was when I snuck back into my parents’ home after going to a party I was not allowed to be at. Then I was 16, now I’m twice that age, but being doubly careful. Yes, I now answer to a 60 cm human being with a temper that’ll make a Tasmanian Devil seem docile, but I’ve never been happier — honestly 🙂 While he takes his nap, I’ll type as fast as I can, but I have realized that I can type well enough these days nursing a baby and hopping on my Pilates ball which has now replace my home-office chair. I know that we’re supposed to continue with normal “noise” in the house while he sleeps, but it’s taken me a good portion of my day to settle him and I intend for him to sleep as long as he needs — or rather I need him to 😉
My boy is 2 months old today — “My boy” when he’s good, “Our son” (muttered loudly and deliberately when husband is within hearing distance) when he is vocally making his presence on this planet known to all. Time flies when you’re having fun. It also flies when you’re raising a baby. This doesn’t mean that there’s no element of fun when it comes to babies — quite the contrary, but the fun is not always had taking adult scheduling into account. Our son enjoys playing at 3 am. This entails one of us doing silly faces and singing songs that are made up on the spot — usually containing a few phrases encouraging him to go back to sleep sang in a drowsy voice peppered with heart-felt pleading. He wants to check out the other rooms at this hour and bemoans the fact that at the moment, we are his only mode of transport. But, that toothless gummy smile and little gurgles are enough to make even the most sleep-deprived parent smile back. Even at 3 am and even though those routine-enforcing folks frown upon us 😉 Back in the day, we came home from parties at 3 am — now a glass of wine and dinner followed by bed-time at 10pm is a big night 🙂 How times have changed!
But, looking back at the past 2 months and preceding 40 weeks, one realizes how one’s capacity to love has increased. You understand what they meant when they spoke about unconditional love. You chat to other mothers and realize that there are other people out there walking in a haze of sleeplessness and a faint waft of sour milk and that they’re ok. That you’re not the only person who doesn’t have 2 minutes to go to the little girls’ room alone. You realize that sometimes it’s ok to not be ok and that it doesn’t make you a bad person to walk away from a crying baby for 2 minutes and have a good cry yourself. Being a parent is an incredible blessing that comes with a huge load of responsibility. The fact that someone else is completely dependent on me has led me to nearly exhaust my inexhaustible darling Medela (if you’re a breast-feeding mom, you’ll know your pump on a first name basis) so that there’s always a stash of milk in the freezer — just in case. I now wear a hand brace because of an inflamed tendon (our son loves eating and has the weight to prove it!) and my other hand soon needs a brace too. My darling stiletto collection has gathered dust and I can now debate the merits of immunizations with aplomb. But, I am a happier person because of this little person who has shown me that being a mother is the most important task and honour that God could ever have bestowed on me.
Oops, have to end this post right here — my pint-sized master has summoned me 😉