Mom's Bragging
As I write this message, Kiefer is in his crib singing to himself. When he falls asleep at someone else's house, he never stays asleep during the ride home. He wakes up and looks around wonderingly--my husband says it seems like he's having the most vivid and tangible dream possible. He smiles and cuddles all the way to his crib, and then he sings himself back to sleep. This is such a frequent occurance that I can't imagine ever forgetting it, but it is so sweet I want to make sure that I don't.
Thus, for the memory's sake, I am going to commit to, er, cyber-paper some of Kiefer's most precious characteristics. In addition to singing himself to sleep, he sings himself through his whole day. He is constantly babbling, and the pitch and cadence of his voice give it a very sing-song feel. When he's not singing, he's shouting, and it doesn't matter where he is. He'll shout at people eating lunch across the room, he'll shout into the phone, he'll shout at trees he passes in his stroller. He loves his voice. When he was a newborn he screamed often throughout the day (and night) and my friend Jen said she believed that he would be articulate when he got older, and I think she's right. As a newborn he knew no other way than screaming, now he babbles as he explores what his voice can do, and more and more the tone of his babbling resembles adult speech, even though it's still nonsensical.
He suddenly discovered waving and blowing kisses all in one day, and then a few days later he discovered walking and that put the first two discoveries out of his mind. Try as I may, I cannot get him to wave anymore, but he does acknowledge people by vigorously shaking his head and happily announcing "aahh!" He has been particularly pleased to discover a handful of people who will do this in return, and he'll carry on entire conversations with them in this way.
And speaking of walking, he is becoming more and more confident at this new skill. He holds his hands high and walks with his mouth hanging wide open, but now he is able to stop and stand still for awhile or change direction or even squat down to pick something up before continuing on his way. It is amusing how often he suddenly plops to the ground, and I keep chuckling to think how absurd it would be for adults to do that.
It stikes me that I haven't mentioned any of my husband's "precious characteristics," but somehow it doesn't seem as interesting to say that Todd has no problem walking, waving, or talking, and he doesn't need to sing to go to sleep.
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.
