With the birth of my daughter and entrance into motherhood there have been a number of noticeable differences in myself. I have become an emotional worrier, just to name a couple.
The worry thing is necessary for a mom, to a point. It's important to be aware of all the potential dangers in the room and be able to look at your child and in 2 seconds assess if they are about to hurl themselves backward in pure joy and smack their noggin on the corner of the flagstone hearth. That way you can anticipate and avoid the trip to the emergency room. I'm pretty sure it will happen sooner or later, I just hope it's not serious and doesn't happen soon.
Even more dibilitating than the worrying is the lack of control of emotions. My tear ducts are working over time. I feel as though their locked and loaded and ready to fire with the slightest nudging. This morning the little one kept pointing and asking for a book on the top shelf. One that we haven't pulled out yet for fear of eminent destruction. It's one of those soft cover normal paper page books, not like the more durable, fairly indestructable board books that are more suited for a curious toddler. Given to us by a family member and touted as one of their favorites I thought well as long as I'm holding it, it will be fine. I started to read the book titled, "Love You Always" and thought this is very sweet. It tells of a mom caring for her newborn who grows to become a young boy then teenager, young man, adult etc. all the while she continues to rock and sing him this lullaby:
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.
I'm getting choked up just typing it. Yikes. Well, the story ends with the son, now a man, rocking and singing to his frail, aging mother just before doing the same with his new baby girl. As sappy and silly as it sounds, all this was too much for me to handle and I had to put the book down opting for the more familiar animal picture book.
I suppose it's Gods way. The maternal nature is a sensitive, nurturing one. We all need that in our lives and who better to fit that bill then mommy. The other night after keeping the little one up way past bedtime to enjoy the company of friends, we started the normal bedtime routine; bath, quiet play, diaper and dress, read stories, say our prayers and lights out. We got to step 3 (diaper and dress) and the eyelids were getting to heavy for her to bear so I just picked her up in my arms and sang for a few minutes before putting her in bed. I whispered "i love you" (as I usually do) while turning to leave the room. I got to her door and heard in that cute little child voice "Yuvyou" and I walked out of the room.
It's no wonder why I've grown more emotional. My heart aches just thinking about it.
4 comments:
THAT is the best thing I have read between our "bloggers circle". Keep at it. I would rather quit and read yours then blather on with mine.
I am sobbing. Wanted to call you , but decided it was too late. This is more than mundane, it's incredibley lovely and profound. God bless you Mama Marci. - Holly
that's good blogging! i give up!
Wow.
1) you should have been doing this long ago, this is truly the stuff worth sharing
2) don't ever stop, even if it's on paper and just for you and the little Ditchman to read when she is older
3) if you do keep this up as a blog, I suggest we all buy stock in Kleenex
Wonderful, wonderful posts, Marci. Thank you for letting us peek into your world. It's a beautiful place.
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