toddler

Turning Two

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You would think after having two years experience (that’s 730 days) of watching my child grow and develop, I would have come to terms with him inevitably getting older. I have not.  I have made strides in the right direction (acceptance), but my heart still aches a bit with each inch and milestone he conquers.

O’s second birthday is approaching, and if I let myself breathe that all in, it could seriously knock the wind out of me.  My husband has been asking me what’s wrong with me lately.  He can tell something is “off.”  I keep saying it’s my stomach.  I just don’t feel right. Well, when something is bothering me, that’s where the stress goes.  Right to my gut.  I’ve not been purposely lying to him.  I actually didn’t realize the correlation until I started writing this post.  But that’s what’s “got” me.  My baby is growing up and there is no way to stop the clock.

That’s not to say that I want to actually stop the clock.  Of course not.  I want to see him grow and thrive and become the man he is meant to be.  It’s just the pangs of loss that hit me occasionally.  Sometimes gently and sometimes like a smack across the face.  Like now, as this 2 year marker approaches.  I understand how precious this whole process is.  The act of raising, caring for, and unconditionally loving this being that was created with such love.  It is awesome and truly the best thing I have ever done in my life. And it’s all flying by so quickly.  I believe this is one of the big reasons why people have more children.  The feeling is so wonderful, at times, euphoric.  Of course you want to  make it last.  So you have another.  And maybe another.  Unless you can’t.  Unless it maybe just isn’t in the cards.

Ah, and there it is.  The crux of the matter.  I didn’t really think about O’s birthday coinciding with the end of our “have another baby” project.  But the months have passed and with each one came a reminder that I’m not going to have another child.  I promised I wouldn’t be upset.  I promised.  But as I sit here wiping away my tears, I’m finding my promise is proving to be empty, however well intentioned.  I won’t let myself spiral into a dark place over it, however.  I have far far too much to be thankful for to let that happen.  But I think my not allowing sadness over it was a mistake.  That’s a ridiculous notion, really.   Not allowing sadness?  It’s just silly.  As if my heart has a choice.  Ha.

So I’ll go on, filling my my mind and days with work and projects.  I’ll spin more plates than usual, no doubt.  But I will be aware of my particular sadness and honor it.  And I suppose, if I need to cry, well then, I’ll cry.  At least I won’t be denying my feelings.  If you read my blog, you know that I believe everything happens the way it is supposed to.  And I don’t believe in regrets.  I believe in lessons.  But this advanced maternal age mommy wishes perhaps she didn’t wait quite so long to have a child.  Maybe there would have been time for another?   A tough lesson to swallow in hindsight.  But then, perhaps another child was never in the cards.  You can really think it to death.  Who really has time for that?

So as my little O gets ready to turn two, we will celebrate his time so far on this earth and the immense  joy he brings us….with a Sesame Street theme, no less.  We are having a combined birthday with his second cousin, Nora, who was born two days after him.  Lots of Elmo and Abby Caddaby!  Alphabet cookies, crayons and Cookie Monster fudge!  I’ll take lots of pics for a fun party blog.  And I won’t forget for a moment all that I have.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading. Xo

Toddler Madness

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There are certain days my patience runs thin.  My son is approaching his second birthday.  He is in the beginning of the throws of what I am calling toddler madness.  This might prove to be the hardest period for us, as his communication skills are still sparse.  He says words, yes.  But his ability to actually convey specific wants is unhoned, especially the more frustrated he gets.  My failure to understand him just adds to his frustration and before I know it, he is in full on the floor tantrum mode.  There is no reason or logic to this.  It is absolute madness.  Hence, my categorical name for this period we are forging into full speed ahead.

Rationally, I know there is usually some reason for these outbursts.  He most likely isn’t even aware himself what it might be.  And the speculation is vast.  It could be that he is hungry.  Thirsty.  Perhaps his two year molars are giving him a hard time that day.  Maybe his shirt is uncomfortable.  Maybe….the list goes on.  Or, where the real madness comes in, the outburst has no cause.  It is not the reaction to anything at all, except the moment hits him and he decides to throw himself on the floor, kick and scream a little, and then, perhaps, get on with his day.  Come to think of it…I feel like doing that sometimes. Maybe it’s not so crazy, after all.  Hmm.

My pediatrician suggests no parental reaction.  She always says, “Don’t encourage any behavior you don’t like by reacting to it.”    I’m actually pretty good at being calm in the midst of his storms.  Most of the time.  It’s the days when the outbursts are mixed with incessant whining, that tax me the most.  It’s hard not to react to the whining, though I give it my best shot.  At home, I actually walk into another room.  I also redirect his attention when he is calm enough.  It becomes the hardest to deal with in the car.  Both of us trapped in a small space.  I can only turn the Hamilton soundtrack up so much.

Mothers who’ve been there…mommys on the same battlefield, I ask you.   What do YOU do?  And if you had a child who never threw tantrums or whined, keep it to yourself.  I don’t even want to know that children like that exist. There isn’t enough Skinny Pop or Two Buck Chuck to get me over that.  Thanks. I know every kid is different, but there must be some common thread for how to proactively deal with this “stage of development.” My saving grace at this point is that I am, in fact, an older mom and I have a degree of patience I never would have had 20 years ago.  I’m not saying younger Moms can’t have patience.  I just know I didn’t have it when I was younger.

The most ironic thing about this stage of “toddler madness,” is how fleeting the madness can be.  I can have a morning like today, where the crabby-ness,  whining and foot stomping outbursts seemed to have such succession it almost became rhythmic.  And then 20 minutes before his nap, my child decides to lovingly stop time.  He sits next to me on the couch, lays his head on my shoulder and lets me stroke his hair.  For a whole 20 minutes! He may have actually purred.  Just when I was ready to give up for the day, he indulges me in his sweet side.  Sneaky.  Unpredictable.  All part of the glorious wonderful madness that is only just beginning.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks so much for reading! Xo

A Mother’s Day

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I’ve never been one for holidays created by greeting card companies.  Valentine’s Day is the worst.  My husband and I have vowed to never make a big deal of such a day.  We believe all our days should be reflective of our love and commitment, and not for one set day because Hallmark dictates it.  I know Mother’s Day falls under the same sort of quasi-holiday category, but I have to admit, I feel a bit different about it.  To give it equal due, I feel different about Father’s Day, too.  So hear me out.

I am not looking for what the advertisers or the media suggest I want.  There is no bauble, gadget, or knick knack I am longing for.  I don’t want all sorts of money spent on me.   I don’t want a day at the spa or a day all to myself to be pampered.  I don’t want a weekend away, a maid service to clean the whole house, or some cheesy overpriced greeting card written by some stranger.   It’s so much simpler than that.  What I would like to celebrate and have acknowledged, is the fact that I try every single day not to ruin the amazing child that by some natural miracle ended up in my care.  I’d like a Mother’s Day.

What is that you ask? Well, hold onto your yoga pants.  It’s a day where I can sleep uninterrupted for 8+ hours (without having to go to bed at 8pm the night before).  I can take a long luxurious bath instead of a quick shower.  I would be able to have a bowel movement…all by myself….in peace…uninterupted.  Without Thomas the Tank Engine.  Or whilst reading The Little Engine That Could.  It’s a day that for a whole 24 hours I am NOT the person who touches or cleans up another person’s feces.  (To be fair to my husband, he takes on the dirty diapers like a champ when he’s around.)  And, most importantly, it’s a day that my husband showers me with words of encouragement and love from his heart.  Oh, and he makes me breakfast, lunch and dinner. Now these last two requests actually happen on a regular basis in our home, but they are such a nice part of our day that it only makes sense to include them.

Now I realize that as simple as this day seems in theory, the actual execution of these requests may prove more than difficult.  (Lucky for me, my husband is a rock star!) But, perhaps it might seem impossible for some mates.  Hence, the bauble or some fancy high priced item.  The mate thinks, “how can she be upset with me if I give her _______?” And she won’t be.  I mean who gets mad at jewelry or a Coach bag?  The retailers are surely happy.  Hubby is happy because he dodged a mega parenting bullet.  But most likely, it isn’t what she truly wants on this day.  If she is anything like me, it most certainly is not.

So Hallmark, Zales, Pandora and all you other retailers and tall tale fabricators….you aren’t on my radar.  I could care less about what you have to offer.  I don’t know that any woman who stays home everyday with her toddler really wants what you are peddling. As I looked around the library today at story time, I saw the faces of other mothers that seemed to need what I am in need of.   We all most likely just want to remember who we actually are.  To have a moment to acknowledge our own worth unattached to the non stop job of caregiving.  To have a few moments to think of/and for ourselves, all the while knowing that our most precious possession is being cared for by our most precious partner.   It’s that simple.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight.  And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Hope you get to have a rockin Mother’s Day.  Xo thanks for reading!

If The Shoe Fits

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I was getting X-rays done at the dentist yesterday.  Carol, the dental assistant who cleans my teeth and takes said X-rays, was making chit chat.  Of course, when you have a toddler who is in the waiting room with Daddy, the small talk tends to be about your child.  In this case, O’s presence in the office seemed to bring up some nostalgia for Carol.  She started to tell me, as most people do, how fast it all goes.  How he will be 21 before I know it.  And then she said, “What I wouldn’t give to hold my son as that little infant again.”  She cradled her arms and for a second I could see her newborn baby right there in her mind’s eye.  She said it was her favorite time of being a mother.  I assured her I was enjoying each moment with O….and just smiled.  But, I’ll be honest with you, my heart was aching a bit.

I wanted to be able tell her that I could relate.  I wanted to say, ” I know the feeling.”  But I didn’t know the feeling.  When O was a newborn, I couldn’t stop crying.  I would hold him in my arms and cry.  A lot of that time is truly a blur to me.   I had an impulse to share with her my bout with post partum blues, but I didn’t want to rain on her memory and make it about me.  I just smiled.  But inside I knew I missed something apparently very special with my son in the first several weeks of his life.  Something I’ll never get back.  Hence, the ache in my heart.

Now I’ve talked a lot about post partum depression and shared most every detail of my story with my readers.  So you know that my situation was short lived (thank God).  And I am certainly not harping on the past.  What’s done is done.  I can’t change any of it and I can’t get that time back.  I have not beat myself up over it for quite some time now.  But, it is important to me that I acknowledge the feeling of loss, however minute it may be perceived to be.  With out acknowledging the darkness I was in, I can’t fully appreciate the joy and light I am basking in now.  Does that make any sense?

My conversation with this woman was such a sweet memory for her and a true reminder for me to be grateful for where I am presently.  I think back to that time and I feel like a completely different person now.  It was like I didn’t know how to even walk in the shoes of that new mother.  I just hobbled along, stumbling (and crying). And now, I feel so sure footed….like I am sprinting through fields of gold.  It’s as if these Mommy Shoes were meant for me.  Like they were in my wardrobe all the time, I just didn’t realize it.  I guess that is a lot of shoe references.  I can’t really even tell you how I wound up here in this amazing place, except that I had the unending support of my husband and I kept putting one foot in front of the other. One day at a time.

O is napping.  I sit here in my favorite writing spot in the house.  The skylight above me allows the sunshine to stream in onto my lap.  There are toy trucks and cars strewn about the sectional.  And outside I can hear bees buzzing and buds opening.  I’m not missing a thing.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading.  Always. Xo

I Choose Us

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I write a lot about extreme self care and metaphorically putting on your mask before you help those around you.  Breathing for yourself so you can be a better mom.  As a mother, a huge theme of mine is survival.  Motherhood is an awesome, all consuming job, that doesn’t have an end to the work day.  Our brains don’t get to shut off and decompress during most days.  I am “on” 24/7, even when my husband is home.  It’s certainly not for lack of help from him.  He is a full hands on Dad.  It’s just my Mommy mode.  It’s like sleeping with one eye open.  I never get to forget I have a child. Not that I would want to, but you get what I’m saying.   I have come to realize that my survival plan is short sighted.  It doesn’t encompass the big picture.

And so, it occurs to me, sometimes it is not all about MY survival. Nor is it about baby coming first all the time.  It’s about the survival of our family.   All of us.  As a wife, who truly wants and loves this equal partnership I am in, I realize it is not only important, but imperative to sometimes put my partners needs before all else.  Yes, I just said that.  Before baby and before me.  I find that I do a lot to keep myself in balance.  I make a conscious effort to seek beauty and positivity every day.  I take walks with O.  We have adventures and stories and cuddles. It doesn’t always have to be “only me” time to be “me” time.  Sometimes my efforts fail me, and that’s when I need assistance, like any normal being.

My husband’s career can’t exactly be called “me” time for him.  Although he loves it, it is stressful.  And let’s face it, the man is doing it to provide for his family.  After all, it is called work.  So when does he get to slow down and breathe for himself? He could go to yoga, but that’s never gonna happen.  The point is that sometimes we fall out of balance because I am in need of some self care and sometimes we fall out of balance because he is in need of the same.  It is my job (and privilege) to help him with that.  (Yes, I said privilege and I’ll get back to that.). If it means that I have to give up some of my “only me” time to provide for him, then so be it.  Maybe I miss my yoga….when I am in balance, it’s not going to wreck me.  I know I’m stronger than that.

You see, to me, the bigger picture is O having two happy, healthy parents who are enjoying raising their child together and who are enjoying their loving partnership.  It is about him witnessing a relationship that gives, supports and loves.  The stronger we are as a couple, the more secure he will be.  The more love he sees, the more he will want to give.  I have to look at it like we are the foundation of our family life.  If the foundation is cracked (regardless of where the crack lies) our family is on shaky ground.  If we are solid, there is no limit to what we (and he) can build upon it.

I say it is my privilege to help my husband, because I am so lucky to have him as my partner.  I am not only blessed to share this life with a someone…but with the someone who I truly believe I am meant to be with.  There are so many people in this world longing for companionship, for love, for another.  I am privileged to take this journey with a beautiful human being….I will not take that for granted.

I often say that O is our world.  But in truth it is our family that holds the key to happiness. I can’t be fully happy if my partner is hurting or suffering in any way.  As independent as we both are, we work as a unit, not as two independent entities.  Our individual balances, triumphs and struggles affect us all.  That is what the commitment to partnership means.  So I don’t choose ME.  I don’t choose O.  I choose Us.  Every time.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thanks so much for reading.  Xo

My Name Is Mommy

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I am continually discovering on this journey of motherhood.  Even at my “advanced maternal age” I learn something new about myself everyday.  I constantly have those moments when I go,” Aha! That is why Moms do that!”  Things I used to roll my eyes at now make sense.  This constant learning curve certainly keeps this mother humble.

One of the things that used to make me cringe, was a husband and wife calling each other Mommy and Daddy.  I have always thought that was really ridiculous.  It reminded me of baby talk in a way, and I just couldn’t stomach it.  Well this is the perfect case of having to go through it to understand it.

Last week little O walked up to me and said, clear as day, “Hey Mare!”  I thought to myself “huh?”  He said it again (in case I missed it) and turned and walked away in search of a truck.  My 22 month old son was calling me by my nickname.  Like a little version of my husband.  “Hey Mare!”

Now I shouldn’t be shocked.  Of course he hears my husband call me Mare.  But then it dawned on me.  THAT is why parents call each other Mommy and Daddy!! Hello, Mommy!?  Duh! It’s not because there is some weird baby talk fetish at work….it’s because a toddler will repeat EVERYTHING he hears, including inappropriate expletives and, of course, our first names.

Let me tell you, try as hard as you may to mind your P’s & Q’s, a toddler will undoubtedly pick up the words you absolutely don’t want him to hear.  It will be the ONE time you slip because shards of fiber glass are shooting into your fingers while you are carelessly throwing something away and your toddler sits watching in his wagon.  Doesn’t everyone say “Fudge You!” to inanimate objects?  Except I didn’t say Fudge, did I?  Nope.  If only.  Hang out with us enough, and the actual phrase can be heard coming from my son.  He really captured my inflection perfectly, I might add.  We decided at first not to acknowledge it and now we pretend he is saying “vacuum” (stress on the second syllable).  I kid you not.

The point is, my name is now Mommy.  My husband is Daddy.  My Mother-in-law is Grammy and so it goes.  Every day the ridiculousness of parenting becomes more and more my norm.  Spelling things out absolutely happens in our house…you can’t say the word s-n-a-c-k until it’s actually happening.  No one needs that kind of melt down.  I tell you,  I get it now.  It’s all out of necessity.  And we are not alone in it.  People with kids around O’s age or a bit older are all in the same boat.  The same leaky boat. We are  patching up the holes with chewing gum, scotch tape, or whatever we can find to make due, to survive the day.   The scary part is that we are only just entering the toddler trenches. The combat has only begun.  This M-O-M needs a N-A-P.  Signing out.  Over and out.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember that behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading! Xo

Parenting and Privacy

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It dawned on me this morning, as I was sitting on the commode, that I will most likely not have any privacy for the next 4-5 years.  Maybe more? Oye.  It was not hard to come to this conclusion.  As I was trying to expedite my morning “ritual,” my son pushes his way into the downstairs powder room, book in hand.  “Hi!” He likes to announce himself as he enters pretty much any room. He is uber curious about anything having to do with the potty, so he is instantly intrigued.  I’m like, “buddy, mommy needs some privacy.”  Of course, this request has no affect on little O.  He is at this point climbing over me to get to the toilet paper. I somehow direct him out and keep the door ajar enough to keep an eye on him.

No sooner than I sigh, he is back.  This time pushing his Thomas the Tank riding toy into the tiny room like a bulldozer.  There is barely enough room for the two of us and the heavy door that swings into the room, let alone a push toy singing songs of Thomas and his friends.  I drop my head into my hands.  This is my life.  My glamorous life.  Pooping in front of my child and Thomas the Tank.  All Aboard!

I share this moment of Too Much Information, because I need to know….it happens to all of us who are home with our children, right?  We ALL don’t have privacy, correct?  I’m sure there are moms and dads who have the means to have an au pair or a nanny to assist….but for the most part, the breech of privacy is universal.  Right? Cause if it isn’t, what am I doing wrong? I can’t seem to justify locking myself into the bathroom for vanity’s sake.  Do you know what kind of havoc could occur in the five or ten minutes I might not have my eye on our little explorer?  It is not a viable option.  I am left to think my only recourse is to grin and bear it.

I can only imagine how our lack of privacy will expand as O gets older.  But the truth of the matter is – I’ll take it.  If it’s part of the deal of getting to raise this little guy, then, by all means, pooping with Thomas and friends is a small price to pay. It just strikes me that we stay-at-home parents really have some odd things that just become our normal.  You just don’t think about it until you are in the moment.  I guess our sense of humor and our incredible love for our child gets us through everything.

Here’s to parenting and a lack of privacy! Cheers! Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up! Thanks for reading! Xo

Touching Hearts

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“The passion of touch warms the heart.”

My yoga teacher said that last night in class and it stuck with me.  It made me think about how we, as humans, need to be touched.  It isn’t learned.  It is instinctual.  And it isn’t a sexual thing.  Sometimes we just need to be hugged, rubbed, or caressed.  Simple as that.

I see it with my little O. He can be playing, happy as a clam, and he will walk over to me, come in for a hug and then go about his business.  It’s like a vitamin for him.  I believe that I can’t hug and kiss him enough.  Especially at this age, when he still wants me to.  He needs it.  It’s clear.  It makes him happy and secure.

I don’t know if that need evaporates when we get older, but the context of touch certainly changes.  It becomes something we are super aware of.  If we mistakenly touch a stranger, we are embarrassed and apologetic.  We are taught that touch is something we only do with people we are close to…and then it changes to something romantic and becomes gender related.  Women can hug other women, or a man.   Men generally only hug women they are romantic with (or related to) and tend to shake the hand of another male.  Shaking the hand of someone, while technically touching, doesn’t quite have the warming effect a hug provides.  Do men really need less “contact” or is that just what society tells them?  Whatever the case is, physical contact, human to human is pretty limited these days.  It’s strange and sad, really.

When was the last time you hugged someone? I mean really hugged? Not a polite hug.  That, to me,  is a glorified handshake. It’s like the “air kiss.”  Pointless.   Well, not pointless, but you know what I mean.  I’m talking about a true full body, 4-8 second hug?  My Aunt Ellie always gave me great hugs.  She would say, “touching hearts” while we were in a full embrace.  She’s been gone almost five years now and I can still feel the warmth of her touch.  Granted, we were very close.  But I would venture to say she made many other people feel just as special as she always made me feel.  I’d like to be more like my Aunt Ellie.

I’d like to teach our little O the value of the human touch. I want him to know the power of a hug and the profound meaning a simple hand on one’s shoulder can have when someone needs support.  I’d like him to seek contact with people, rather than communicate via virtual means.  And yet again, the only thing I can do is be an example.  He will choose his own way doing what he is comfortable with.  I guess, as parents, our job is show him the possibilities.  Our house is a home of affection.  We not only shower O with hugs and kisses, but we are always showing each other affection.  Touch is good.  Touch is important.  It lets us know we are loved and alive.  That our life matters to someone else.  It makes us feel safe and secure.  What was that Diana Ross song? “Reach out and touch….somebody’s hand…make this world a better place…if you can.”  Totally throwback time and totally corny…but so true! In yoga class it was more hip…..but the sentiment remains.

So until next time, go on a mission to touch someone (and yourself, if the spirit moves you but THAT’S a whole other post) and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Namaste! Xo

Top 10 Occupational Hazards of a SAHM

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I have been realizing more and more, there are several alarmingly real, and often truly gross, occupational hazards of being a Stay At Home Mom.  I am sure as my boy gets older, the list will evolve and grow, as he does.  But the list for the parent of a toddler is pretty robust, to say the least.  I have said it before and I’ll say it again, this is the toughest job in the world….and not for the faint of heart.  I’m sure everyone’s  list has variations…but here’s my top 10.

# 1.  You will get sick.  Be it the cold your LO got from this week’s play date or the stomach bug that flew through the entire story time group….you will come down with whatever your LO gets.  It’s just the way it goes.

# 2.  You will wear your toddler’s food on occasion.  Whether it splatters by mistake or your LO decides it would look better on your shirt than on his spoon…you will wear it.

# 3.  You will become disconnected from your friends without children.  It doesn’t mean it’s forever.  But it just happens.   When you find yourself with a free moment, you’ll realize that you couldn’t possibly call them right now, as it’s only 5 am where they live.

# 4.  You will be tired.  You will fall in love with bed.  Sleep becomes the highest priority after taking care of your LO.  You will dream of sleep while you are sleeping.

# 5.   You will get thrown up on.  It’s not pretty.  Nor does it smell nice.

# 6.   You will get poop on some part of you or your apparel. Whether it be a leaky diaper, or a diaper change gone wrong, it will happen.  If you are lucky enough to have a boy….you will, at least once, get pee in your face.  Again, not pretty nor fresh smelling.

# 7.   Your nice things will not remain nice.  Your brand new carpet will get soiled and your $4000 couch will become a Kleenex for your toddler’s runny nose.  It’s just stuff.  Get a good protection plan.

# 8.   Everything you say will be repeated.  Everything.  Choose your words carefully.  Oh, shit!

# 9.    You will feel like you are failing.  Often.  Rest assured,  if you care that you are, then you most likely are not.

#10.   You will not be prepared for the amount of love you possess for your child.  Nor will you imagine how it keeps growing exponentially.    It often takes your breath away.  Get an inhaler.

Until next time, keep smiling, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading! Xo

Worried Mommy

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I have to be honest with you.  I worry about my child.  There is this little nagging voice in my head that rears itself every once in a while…and it happened again today.  I was at story time today at the library.  It wasn’t going too well for O.  He didn’t want to sit and listen.  The craft was WAY beyond him (He’d rather eat the glue stick) and he was yawning before we even got there.  I should have known it wasn’t going to go smoothly.   Sure enough, it proved to be a difficult outing.  I know there are days like this.  But some days his lack of engagement and conformity fill me with worry.

I wonder how much is his personality.  Everything since his birth, has been on his time and his terms.    Heck, he didn’t come out on his own.  We had to go in there and get him!  Every milestone so far has been accomplished when HE was good and ready.  OR… is there perhaps some sort of problem or delay? At this age (20 months) it can be very confusing.  I only notice things when he is around other children.  Because normally, I have nothing to compare him to.  And I know, I know, we aren’t supposed to compare our children.  But it just happens.  You see other kids who are around the same age and you are wondering why do they sit still and listen to the story?  Why do they follow directions?  Why won’t my child?  There are days when he does….but they are few.  I always feel like socializing is one step forward and two steps back, with my O.  He is also VERY attached to Mommy.  Which makes socialization that much harder.  He will engage with me happily, but he has very little interest in new people….even other children.  Maybe I’m doing it all wrong?

I am trying to assess where my worry regarding O is coming from.  Is it the winter doldrums? Is it us being cooped up in the house these past weeks due to sickness?  Is there any merit to my worry?  Does every mom worry? Do moms of advanced maternal age worry more?  And am I worried more because he is my only child?  Already pangs of guilt are entering my mind because he doesn’t have a sibling.  Not for lack of trying to give him one.  But, thus far, it doesn’t seem to be in the cards.  I can see the links on this worry chain will continue to accumulate if I don’t get it in check.

I was telling my husband the other night, that being at home with O is by far, the hardest job I have ever had….and the most important.  I just don’t want to screw it up.  And yet, everyday, I feel that somehow I am letting this child down.  You know my tagline.  “Behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.”  It’s soooo true.  And some weeks, it’s truer than others.  And it’s so hard not to be hard on myself.  I feel like it’s all on me sometimes.  What if I miss something? What if he is having a delay and I don’t get him the help he needs?  It’s my fault.  Maybe I baby him too much? Well, I know that’s true.

You know, I really feel that I owe O everything.  In some Miracle of Life creation, this glorious soul picked us to be his parents! The joy and meaning he brings to both my husband and I is beyond anything, I think, either of us could have ever imagined.  It’s powerful and its profound.  It is heaven made.  But.. we also have to live day to day on the earth, with our feet on the ground, taking each step, one foot in front of the other.  I think I just solved my own problem.  It is so so easy to let the magnitude of this job, that has been entrusted to us, take over.  It is, at times, overwhelming.  But our child is who he is. It is already determined.  Will it all reveal itself in time? Yes.  Will we deal with each hurdle and each triumph, as they come…one day at a time?  Of course, because that’s what we as parents do.  The worry is futile.  It is wasted energy.

I thank you from the bottom of my humble and sometimes worrisome heart.  Confiding in you has let me find my way off the latest parental ledge.  It’s not easy stuff.  Sometimes having someone to bounce things off of, be it a real person or a cyber friend, makes all the difference.  Knowing we aren’t alone is everything.

Until next time, thanks for reading, and remember (it’s the TRUTH) behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Xo