Welcome

In the movie Lost in Translation there is a scene in which Bill Murray's character explains that, upon having your first child, "your life as you know it is gone...never to return." The movie has been one of my favorites for years. I just wish that I had known he meant my life.

In early 2010, I gave birth to the world's most perfect child. (Is there a parent who doesn't think his/her child is the world's most perfect?) In addition to being beautiful, he is brilliant and sweet and funny and hands-down the best thing that will ever happen to me. This kid is my entire world. I had somehow suspected through most of my life that he would be, which is why I fought very hard to have him. But about the post-childbirth apocalypse, I had absolutely no clue.

To say things have changed would be misleading. EVERYTHING has changed. Most of it has been good--some not so great--but everything is without a doubt different. And now the world changes once again. My little family and I find ourselves journeying from the big city to beautiful, calm Montana. Will the change be for the better? As with anything, the answer is sometimes "yes," sometimes "no," and always sought with massive quantities of hope. Come with me as I navigate the roads from fast-paced, big-city lawyer to Montana Momhood. Is there a line that can be walked? We'll see. But I can guarantee, at a minimum, it will be an adventurous road trip....

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Maybe, Just Maybe...

I have no idea whose baby
this is, but he seems happy.
Like all children, mine gets his fair share of compliments from perfect strangers.  From "you are so cute," to "I love your hat," to "wow, you really managed to demolish that grocery aisle in record time," people aren't shy about expressing their opinions.  But in all seriousness, there is one compliment that takes my breath away.  I can't get over when someone says "he looks like a really happy kid."

To dissect this into its most awful form, I probably like this sentiment because it has something to do with me.  Don't get me wrong--the grocery store one does, too, but I ignore that.  But as a control freak, I am fully aware that, apart from a lot of praying and a daily bag of mini donuts, I had nothing whatsoever to do with my kid being cute.  None of us does.  And they're ALL cute.  As much as I would like to claim otherwise, I didn't make the monster hat that gets rave reviews.  And I certainly didn't have anything to do with his ability to "whistle" in a high-pitched squeak that makes Papa chuckle with pride.  But I do like to hope that I have something to do with him being a happy kid, and so I get choked up every time someone says it.

But don't get me wrong--I am not under ANY illusion that I am doing anything right.  Oh, no.  I am not aware of any parent who does think so and, if you do, you are probably one of those parents whose noses I secretly want to shove pencils up.  And by the way, your kid is likely a jerk.  Anyway, you see, I get all emotional at the thought of confirmation my kid might be happy, because maybe...just maybe...today I didn't completely screw him up beyond all repair.  Maybe we can get away with a few thousand in therapy when he's older, as opposed to visiting him in prison.  Sick, right?  Well, welcome to parenthood. 

I don't think we're particularly hard on ourselves in recognizing all of the many, many, many, many opportunities we have in a day to screw our kids up.  I just think this is...well...hard.  When you make little decisions like whether to allow him to ride forward-facing in the car or whether he can watch TV, society is on your back.  When you make big decisions like packing him up and driving to an entirely different planet, you are on your back.  Are any of your choices right?  Unfortunately you'll never really know.  But if you can have little tiny confirmations that your child may actually be enjoying his life, well, that is everything you could possibly want in the world.  And maybe, just maybe, everyone will be ok after all.
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)