The virtues of motherhood

Motherhood is refining. In a way that even marriage isn't. And boy is marriage refining. But motherhood has a way of cultivating (forcing?) virtue that is unlike anything I've experienced otherwise, and my daughter is my most effective teacher so far.

She teaches me humility. I'm sure 30 years ago, they would have just called her a slow crawler, or said that she was "moving at her own pace", but this week E was officially labeled with significant gross motor developmental delay. Seeing the check box on the physical therapy referral form dealt quite the blow to my ego, as both a mom and a pediatrician. I worry for her. I want the best for her. And yes, I want everyone to look at my child and say, "oh, how advanced she is!" But as my patient and understanding husband reminds me, this is just who she is and we love her exactly how she is. More than our pride.

She teaches me gratitude. When I'm about ready to explode because she just won't stop fussing when I set her down, or when she ruins a clean pair of pants because she can't hold onto her food, or when it's emergency bath time in the middle of the day because, poop in the hair. Just then, when my exasperation and need to control things is at a peak, her goofy little 7-tooth grin melts my heart, and I know that being a mom is one of the best things I will ever do.

She teaches me selflessness. Like it or not. Every time I'd rather take a nap, or go for a bike ride, or have a beer, or sleep in, or not wash onesies in the sink, or have control of my schedule/body/choices. I can be resentful, or I can submit and learn that it's not all about me. I don't always choose the right one. But I try.

She teaches me generosity. As an introvert, the grocery store was still one of the public errands I enjoyed. It reminded me of time with my dad. It allowed me little indulgences for under $5. And after the advent of self-check-out, I could do it all without talking to another human being. Enter the world's most social baby. She waves. at. everyone. Everyone. She smiles with her whole body and people just can't help but talk to her. The butcher. The pharmacy tech. The produce stocker. The self-checker monitor. Every retired old lady in the whole store. And so my solitary shopping trips are no more. I must stop and entertain the masses. But I can just tell it makes their day, and I certainly don't want to stifle E's magnanimity, so I'm learning to be okay with it. I can give them some of my time and energy without it killing me (at least it hasn't so far).

She teaches me flexibility. Because sometimes the nap doesn't go according to plan (like, almost always). Sometimes she just wants to play peekaboo for seven minutes (trust me, that's a long time!). Sometimes we don't make it home and end up nursing in a parking lot. Sometimes the laundry doesn't get done. Sometimes, most times, life happens, and I don't get to be in charge. Which is probably a good thing.

A priest friend of mine was recently talking to another priest friend and said, "We're too selfish. We need kids or something." Not that the ordained life doesn't have virtue-building characteristics. But there is something unique about motherhood (and fatherhood, yes, but motherhood specifically) that empties us, and fills us, unlike anything else. It's the hardest and most beautiful thing I've ever done (along with marriage, but marriage with kids is the next level). And it's definitely my path to holiness.

Mother Mary, pray for us!

Delighting in motherhood

I distinctly remember being asked, sometime when E was almost five months old, "Don't you just love being a mom?" My eyes welled up involuntarily. I paused to compose myself, then forced a smile and said, "I love her." And then I quickly changed the subject. At the time, and for much of the last year, no, no I haven't loved being a mom. My thoughts were largely occupied with how hard it was to learn so many new things, be good at none of them, have everything change constantly, lose all sense of my identity, and feel guilty for all of it.

But this past week I realized that something had changed. More importantly, I had changed. I still am learning all sorts of new things, still am not very good at most of them, everything is still changing, and my identity is still in flux. But now I am loving it.

God has given me the great grace to enjoy motherhood. I look at my baby girl, at her adorable toothy grin and crazy reddish hair, and I delight in being her mom. She charms everyone we meet, which is terrifying for an introvert like myself, because I suddenly find myself having conversations with everyone. No longer can I skate through life under the radar, avoiding human contact--she smiles all the time and draws every passerby into her little sphere of cuteness (today at the DMV, we had the whole bench laughing at her). At the same time, I love showing her off. I am so proud of her friendliness, curiosity, and expressiveness. I love watching her try new foods, discover new toys, meet new milestones. I love holding her tight and having her pat my arm and snuggle into my shoulder.

I know there will be many other times throughout her life when being a mom does not feel like one of life's greatest blessings. But today it does. And I know that it is a gift from God. And I am so grateful.

On a roll

I could blame the dearth of recent posts on many things: end-of-semester crunch for A, respiratory season making work incredibly draining, the madness of Christmas (shopping, parties, family get-togethers, etc), or sleep-training a five-month-old. Mostly that last one, and there's plenty of fodder there for its own post. But it will have to wait until some other time.

Because today! Today she rolled over! Back to front! All on her own! You guys, I was so excited I think I scared her with how loudly I yelled, "You did it!" It was several minutes before the grin faded from my face. Although I wished I could have had a video to send to Daddy, I loved that I got to be entirely present for the momentous occasion, because I wasn't expecting it at all.

We have been working on back-to-front for several weeks now. She mastered front-to-back long ago, because who wants tummy time when you can eat your feet? But I was beginning to think I'd have to trudge into her six-month visit hanging my head because she wasn't meeting her milestones on time. I could easily blame her presumably heavy 99th percentile head, or take solace in the fact that she has already developed object permanence (as she flings her toy off the high chair tray and then leans over to look for it), but she wasn't rolling, and every pediatrics intern has memorized that rolling both ways should come by six months.

I'm sure there will be milestones she doesn't meet on time, and others she flies past because she is, after all, her mother's daughter. But it probably won't have much to do with me and how much I try to motivate her. Because, that whole mother's daughter thing? Means she's stubborn too. And will do things in her own time I'm sure. And it will be perfect, just the way it is. I can't imagine watching her spell her name, or tie her shoes, or ride a bike, or score a goal, or graduate high school. The amount of pride I felt just at watching her roll over made me about burst. #therewillbetears #andallthekleenexes

Makes up for all the times I want to give her back because she wants to play at 3:30 in the morning.