On Being a Full-Time Mom

Now that I am officially a stay-at-home mom, people sometimes ask me how on earth I spend my time each day. Aside from the obvious--watching soaps and eating bon-bons (ha)--I do manage to fill the time, and it's not all changing diapers and picking up crushed Cheerios (note: there is a fair share of that). The problem is that when confronted with the question of how I fill my days, I am quick to put myself on the defensive. I want to tell people about the interesting ways I spend my time. I want to tell them about the books I read and the things I'm studying and the music I'm playing. Worse, I want to spout off my list of past accomplishments. I want them to know that being a mom doesn't mean I check my brain at the alarm clock every morning. However, when this is the way I communicate, I'm afraid it sounds a little desperate, as though I'm grasping at straws to make myself sound productive and fulfilled. I am increasingly convinced that whether or not I spend parts of my day doing non-"mom" things is not the real issue. The issue is how I utilize that "mom" time. My past accomplishments matter little when the future of a little one rests largely in my hands. My son will turn one in just over a week, and much of the way he perceives the world is going to be influenced by me. What an honor that I have been entrusted with the training-up of a child. What an honor, and what an overwhelming responsibility.

A couple of days ago Kiefer said "bleh" while pointing at his blanket, and I excitedly proclaimed: "He said his first consonant cluster! He's trying to say 'blanket'!" to a friend. That accomplishment may seem small (or even of questionable authenticity--he has also said "bleh" while pointing to me, a pine cone, and a lid that he suddenly found immensely amusing), but someday I will feel excited when he tells me he loves me, or when I see him do something kind to another child without being asked. I will watch him learn to ride a bike, bring home a good report card, successfully struggle through a difficult class at school, find accomplishment in a sport he loves, graduate, date, marry, and become a father. I want the baby who says "bleh" today to become a man who is intelligent, strong, and full of integrity when he becomes a father. I am not expecting to see those attributes develop in him because they are built in to his genetic structure. My husband and I must exhibit those things in our lives, and that is not going to happen if all I can manage is a few minutes a day when I pull myself away from the non-"mom" things in my life.

He may not understand what he sees me doing, but every time I change Kiefer's diaper, pick crushed Cheerios off the ground, and cook meals perfectly tailored to a one-year-old's tastes and needs, I am serving him, and my hope is that through my consistency, he will learn the value of looking out for others' needs. Every time I leave what I'm doing to chase him around on the ground, stack blocks with him, and let him slobber kisses all over my face, I am entering into his world, and I hope that he will observe this and be a good friend to others when he is older. I hope that through the way I spend my time each day, whether I am playing with him, doing chores around the house, or spending a few minutes reading or studying while he plays nearby, he will be observing and developing a good work ethic, a sense of compassion, and a desire to grow in his knowledge of the world and the God who made him.

So I am a little stumped when people ask me that question. Some ask out of genuine perplexity, some with a hint of pity or even scorn, while some are soon-to-be-mothers who are eagerly anticipating a change of pace. Without reciting a four-paragraph essay, it is difficult to sum up this philosophy. How do I spend my time? In short, I spend my time raising a son, and I wouldn't trade it.