I have been stealing moments for myself in the early hours of the morning, working on my blog, catching up on my writing and reading. But sometimes I just think, not how much my life has changed but how much my love grows for you every day.
To be honest, I wasn’t one of those mothers who fell in love with your heartbeat.
I couldn’t love an idea.
When you came home, you were so strange and foreign and I didn’t love the alien either, but somewhere between your feeble cries and my fear of dropping you, a seed was planted and love sprouted in it’s place. You’ve grown so much in the space of a few weeks, it’s crazy. I’m torn between missing how small and light you were and being unable to wait for you to grow up a little bit more.
You can see better now, tracking movements and always staring. I’ve started playing with you and that stops your crying. Tobias liked lying on this stomach before Liam. Now you both prefer sleeping on your tummies.
Remember those little sounds I thought were cute? They apparently mean something (according to Priscilla Dunstan):
“NEH” = Hungry (listen for N)
“OWH” = Sleepy
“HEH” = Discomfort (change diaper or position)
“EAIR” = Gas (listen for R)
“EH” = Air (needs burping)
But all I heard was “ahhhhh!” which means you are hungry, you have a surprise in your diaper, you don’t like the position I put you in, you’re overtired or you want me to burp you. It’s more a complaint than a cry and I’m sure you’ve heard it a million times because I’d have played it for you, all those home videos I made. They say that if you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph.. I’m afraid you’ll grow out of the dinosaur sounds too quickly. I don’t want to forget the little noise you make after you sneeze. So I record and record and I’ll make you a video every year.
I wish I took more photos and videos of your first month because already I miss how small and fragile you two were. I never knew how quickly babies grew! It’s only been another month and you’ve doubled your birth weight. You used to fit in this tiny plastic bowl and now I’ve had to upgrade you to a basin. You’ve changed so much sometimes I don’t remember how you looked.
Now I understand why mothers document their babies’ development so religiously. You’ll never fit into the things you’ve outgrown. I promised myself before I had kids that I wouldn’t be one of those mothers who only had photos of their babies in their phones and only posted photos of them but I guess it’s hard when your children become your world. I didn’t think I would be a mother who would be attentive, much less obsessed, but now my phone and cameras are filled with pictures of you.
I remember writing what I would be like as a mother before I became one and I’ll put it here so you can remind me when I forget:
I won’t scream at my child for breaking bones, instead I’ll say, there better be a damn good story and listen. I don’t want them to be too afraid to live. I want them to know I’ll always be there to hold their hand and laugh at their adventures.
I will teach them to love themselves first. I’ll give them healthy habits, rather than have them regret 25 years later when their bodies start to stretch with neglect and a poor metabolism.
They will each play a different sport to teach them that they have their own teams and they are not in a competition with each other, but boy or girl they will learn the same martial arts.
I hope I can make them understand that everything they decide to do shapes them so pick carefully and stick to it. But selfishly, I hope my son plays the violin and that my girl is a drummer. Most of all, I hope to cultivate the love of words and show them the beauty of imagination.
I swear I won’t be the same parents mine were, not that they did anything wrong, but because I want to be different from them, because I want you to be different from me.