I’m looking at Archie, smiling from ear to ear. Already this morning, I made an unscheduled stop at the preschool just to watch Carter play. I’ve also been locked out of the house and had someone drool on me (totally on purpose) at 6:00 am.
Archie lets out a big squeal of delight and I wonder how I could possibly love another being as much as I love these kids. I recently read an essay about how parenting books and magazines make out mothering to be one big bucket of joy, while leaving out the difficulties, the fear, the agony and annoyance. The essay had a good point- it isn’t a bowl of cherries- but it’s so much more. No parenting magazine, book, movie or expert can capture the intensity of the love I’ve experienced since becoming a parent.
Last night I helped Carter to sleep. It took what seemed like forever and I was a bit annoyed with his efforts to stay awake. Even so, once he fell asleep curled up against me, it was all I could do to resist the urge to wake him up and tell him I love him. He can honk my horn like no one else, as any neighbors who witnessed be pounding on the front door this morning can tell you, but that’s because he has prime real estate on My Heart Central.
The little guy on my lap pats my chest and gurgles. I look down into a huge smile. Maybe it is a bowl of cherries. It’s just that it’s also the pits. I want to express my love, I want some time alone. I want my independence, I want to meet their needs for dependence. I want to laugh with them- I want to sleep. I want the baby to crawl- I want him to stay curled up, smiling in my lap forever.
It’s confusing, and it aches. I feel like I’m powering through something here- like a workout after I’ve spent some time lounging about. The muscles hurt, but it seems like a good pain, something that will end with me stronger.
Off to go smile at my kids. And possibly, gripe too.
