On Mothering

I have been thinking much lately about mothering. And what it means.

I confess I do not have any particularly stunning or profound insights.

I know only this: I love being C's mom. And I am learning a lot about prayer and faith and patience and trust as I pray for the blessing to work less or not at all someday in the near future. It is my fondest dream to spend my days with my boy, taking him to swimming lessons and storytime and picnics at the park.

In the meantime, I am trying to do my best with what I have. I like what Kelly had to say about her mother's recordkeeping. And about the most beautiful thing. And her utter honesty about her struggles with infertility. What I am saying is this: this week, Kelly's beautiful little blog is where it's at if you want some profound or stunning insights about mothering. She gave me something to think about several times this week.



A Letter

Dear C,

Pretty soon - four days your dad tells me - you will be 18 months old. You are amazing! Your language skills are exploding. Just today I told you we were going to the doctor and you said "Dot-ter?"

Your little voice and the way you repeat words with the upward tilt of a question - I could listen to that all day long!

Your little face is thinning out and you look more and more like a toddler and less and less like a baby each day. I love to run my finger along the curve of your cheek down toward your chin.

And your brown eyes! I can't even put a coherent sentence together about those beautiful browns!

Oh your laugh! And how you are so silly and take such delight in finding things to be silly about just so you can laugh. It's all so delightful and fun and it just makes life worth living.

I tell you all the time that you're my best boy ever, and that's the truth if ever I heard it! You are pretty great! You're smart, and you are a good listener and you are just the funnest person to be around.

The only only only thing I wish were different is . . . I'd really wish you'd poop. Because adding words like "suppositories" and "enema" to my SMS words is kind of crazy if you ask me.



"May you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world." -Ray Bradbury