Oh my... where as the time gone? I mean seriously I can remember people telling me to enjoy Matthew's early days, to not let a minute go by or rush that time because it will fly by. For once, I actually heeded that "warning". I did not take anything for granted. Even during those early months when I felt so horrible about myself & the thoughts I was having. That was all on me but it did not effect how I enjoyed and spent my time with Matthew.
Going back to work encouraged me to enjoy each moment because I had precious few with him (or so I felt at the time.) Perhaps that is why I glommed on to breast feeding and would not let it go until Matthew was ready - it was OUR special time and no matter how tired or grouchy I was from being up half the night, I loved those late nights. It was special time I got to spend with my ever growing baby. I remember distinct moments of holding Matthew in the chair nursing, bleary eyed for the third time in a night with the shadows from the moonlight crossing his little face and I knew I would never get those moments back.
That is how I made it through that time as well. I was super mom - I always said that I felt there was something about breast feeding, some hormone that women produce or some odd sort of mental game I played, that gave me that extra whatever it was to survive that time. That is no scientific nor am I in the mood to find some obscure article to support this. Okay so I never looked my best and I had dark circles under my eyes, was often scattered, forgetting appointments, birthdays, important things like driving with my eyes open (I KID!) and fitness/health were not priorities but I wanted, craved, desired that time with my son so I did it until he was ready to be done at 20 months.
I know there have been 'moments' where I lost my patience or felt at a loss as to how to deal with 'things' relating to Matthew and I have bitched about them or felt horribly wrong inside for being that way "like my mother" I would mutter but than I would understand I am NOT my mother, I am me and all mommies lose patience - that is okay. There was that embarrassing day that I stayed home with Matthew when he had Hand, Foot & Mouth disease and I completely lost my shit on the poor sick child. I felt horrible at those moments but on the other hand I am learning that they are minor blips in life.
That sleep will one day be something I hate because I will trying to drag my child from his bed to get him to school. That I will not ALWAYS be apple of my son's eye - that he will not cry 'mommy' when I go off to work but will rather be eying me with annoyance in essence saying with his eyes "go away lady - I am busy being a human being with my own life." That the freely given hugs & kisses will go away eventually. That the happy smiling face will give way to disdain and girlfriends, cars and other "teenage" thrills. I know these things will happen no matter how wonderful and perfect my parenting is because that is life. I am not saying it will or will not be to these extremes. What I am saying is that this is nature and it may be in degrees. It may not be as blatant as my rebellion was to my own mother but eventually all kids feel like they need to be their own people, escaping in degrees from their parents, being their own people.
This morning, I received the usual parent center child update on my 33 month old - generally I do not read these the way I once did when Matthew was 2 months old I was wondering should his poop REALLY be that color. But today I decided to read the e-mail. The first line said "as your child nears his third birthday..." I spat my coffee out and took a deep breath. I mean logically I know he will be three in a few short months and in the big scheme of things he will be still be my lovey little boy but on the other hand it is amazing.
I mean seriously moments ago I was pregnant for the 1st time, fretting about how to be a parent (not even like a good parent, just simply a parent in charge of a little human life). I was struggling, screaming, scaring the shit out of any other woman in labor in that hospital and giving birth to this little human. I was holding that tiny baby in the moonlight and watching him grow ever longer and bigger right there on my lap nursing, ever nursing.
That time flies by in ways that are inexplicable to me even though I was watching for it, even though I was well aware of it all happening and here we are - my child who fearlessly took to ice skates with his daddy this weekend smiling and giddy about the Zamboni, my child who slept all weekend without his bed rail and only fell out once and without incident, my child who danced in the isles with all of the bigger kids at the Doodlebops concert honking on his kazoo like there was nothing better than that moment (oh and he loved the cookie and Mo the most), my child who threw a pretend temper tantrum and got up smiling and laughing to see the look on his parent's faces. My god how time flies and even while looking my boy is growing up faster than I can watch it happen!