Priorities June 22, 2009
Sky, like many babies, is exasperating a great deal of the time. At eleven months old, she has a strong will and a mind of her own. She doesn’t like to be fed; she wants to do it herself. And she usually lets me know she’s done eating by wiping her high chair tray clean with one dramatic sweep of her arm. During bath time, it doesn’t matter how many times I sit her down in the tub, she continually gets back on her feet. She’s also stuck in the taking-apart stage. Our books spend more time on the floor than the shelves. Will she ever get to the putting-back stage?
But then Sky will do something like discover an old hat under our bed. And when I put it on her and take her over to the mirror, she’s so taken with her reflection that she stares transfixed and then gives herself a round of applause. So that inspires us to try other head-wear. Like the bloomers from her new sundress. And then I have to get the camera. Soon a half hour floats by, but I’m unconcerned with all the messes I haven’t yet cleaned up.
I’m writing this on Father’s Day. One year ago I was hugely pregnant. But two years ago I wasn’t sure if motherhood was in my future at all. If my former self could see me now she’d probably say, “Are you kidding? You finally have a kid and you spend half your time irritated because she’s messy when she eats and throws books on the floor?” And for a minute my current self would want to argue and say, “You have no idea how hard it is to be a mom, how exhausting it can be, how sometimes even getting this child to do the simplest things, like eat or sleep, feels almost impossible.” But even as I formulate those words in my brain, I catch myself and stop, wrapped up in the memory of my life before Skylar. “Who cares how clean the house is?” my former self would continue. “Why do you spend so much time sweeping the floor anyway? Spend more time sitting in front of the mirror with your little girl – your little girl – trying on stupid hats and laughing with her.”
Obviously, I never would have chosen infertility for myself. But I’m grateful now that it’ll always be a part of me, fixing my perspective, speaking up when I forget that I’m living an answered prayer.
Motherhood can be an exasperating responsibility but it does have its rewards which make it worthwhile and gratifying. It also helps to know there are other mothers who are going through or have gone through the same mixture of emotions we go through with each stage of child rearing. I remember my first year with an empty nest…the house was picture book perfect, laundry caught up and long awaited goals/projects were accomplished. But it all felt empty, lonely and quiet. I regretted being such a perfectionist housekeeper while I raised our children and wished I would have relaxed more with them. I do remember incorporating play inbetween the chores during their toddler years. Seeing the world through their new littles eyes helps us to slow down and enjoy the short season or stage that they are in now. For this also shall pass and be but a memory in the photos or on the video.
Delurking to say that I love your blog, and I love this post. I often get preoccupied with keeping the house presentable, and then regret not spending more time playing with the babies. My aunt told me that, when the kids are older, they won’t remember whether I kept a neat house, but they *will* remember whether I spent time with them, and she’s right. Sound like you are doing a great job with Sky!
I’ve finally come to a point where I can smile at the ridiculously dirty windows that never seem to get washed b/c they are covered with a precious 2 year old’s hand prints. windows and dishes can wait, these are the moments we’ll cherish when they are grown! my mum kept a spotless house, always, and it took a long time for me to realize there is nothing wrong with a house that says ‘we played hard today’! instead of ‘I got a lot done today’!
love your perspective- thanks for sharing.