But, the reason for this post is that I'm just one person in this grand network of mothers and children. I am minute and my own concerns or excitement are not unique to me. I am simply the next generation of women to explore the prospect of motherhood.
The man and I have talked quite a bit about babies in our short little marriage. He's quite enthusiastic--- He's ready to make a baby and raise it up. He's ready for a family and ready to be a Dad. I fall a little more in love with him every time he says it because his passion for family life is something that I've always seen in him, even when he was making an utter fool of himself drinking to oblivion (oh how I miss college!). In fact, his family values are the third biggest reason that I married him.
You see, I have this superhuman ability to read people. I can tell who is pretending to be an asshole and who's pretending not to be one. And I can mentally sift through all the macho man (big man on campus, in his case) attitude to discover those exact things that you're hoping I can't see. I've done it for so long and it's served me very well. You can't fool me, no one ever has. I've never been heartbroken or stumped by friends. I've always been able to understand their innermost feelings, even when they're not even sure of what they're feeling. the only other person I've ever known to do this is my mom. But, she claims it's a gift she only has for her children. I can call her and pretend to feel one way about any issue and she wastes no time in calling me on my bullshit. She says that it has something to do with carrying in your womb and raising children from day 1. She says there's no one I could hide my true feelings from her-- I've stopped trying.
Whereas I have no children, save the four legged, furry ones that I love so much, this isn't a gift that has come from motherhood. I've always had it-- and now that I think about it, I've always mothered. As the eldest daughter in a family of five, a combination of factors put me in the "mini-mom" position from very early in my life. I have three little sisters, who are very much like dolls to a young girl, and two parents who had to work quite a bit to support this large and in charge brood. Therefore, by the time my youngest sister was born in 1995, I was a 10 year old mini-mom. I changed more diapers than did my father and was giving bottles like a champ. By the time I was in high school, I was getting home from practice after school, preparing dinner and providing rides to girl scouts or birthday parties, making sure homework was done and teeth brushed, reading bedtime stories and singing lullabyes to soothe little ones to sleep. And then, only then, completing my homework and chatting with friends about our highly dramatic days.
Don't confuse my tone, I knew nothing else when I was growing up. I enjoyed my childhood and always felt as though I had as much fun, if not more, than all my friends. But, I've mothered since I was very young. My mom and I often think back on the "olden days" and remember things together like when Patty had chicken pox or when Maggie and Katie would refuse to get dressed after their evening baths and read stories to one another. It's in me and it always has been.
Even in looking through a box of old memories that my mom had found (and pulled out for me to take to my own house to store away for another 5 years and beyond) I found an award I got my Junior year of High School from the coaches on my lacrosse team. I was awarded "The Team Mom Award." I kept everyone together and solved the disputes while making no enemies of my own.
And then I met the man and I mother him as well. And the funny thing is, he doesn't really mind it. I don't follow him around telling him to clean his room, mind you, but I remind him of things and make him cookies and he seems to really like the love that I give him. That's a good thing, I guess.
...And all of this is brought up because I am acutely aware of all things motherhood now-a-days. I see little Bambis all over the place as I'm driving around the county and I stumble upon "A Baby Story" on TLC when I've exhausted everything saved on our DVR. And, more importantly, I hit the "Next Blog" button at the top of the blogspot page and I come across real couples with real families that chronicle their trials and tribulations of parenthood. I've come across a couple who have been going through the adoption process for 2 years after learning of their infertility. I've read a blog of a couple who just lost their little boy after 16 months of struggle with his many health problems. I continue to be reminded of the joy and pain-- the miracle of motherhood and childbirth-- and how some people may never give birth to a baby despite their desire to do so. And how nothing is ever a sure thing.
I spend so much time counting months and planning out how I'd like my life to look, but the fact of the matter is, what's the fun in planning? I said that the man's desire for a family is the 3rd biggest reason I married him. Well, the first is the way he loves me-- including the amount of love he showers on me daily--- but, the second reason I married him is his ability to jump right in with both feet. He is not a planner, not an over-analyzer, like me. He decides what he wants and he goes for it... with very little regard for outcome or consequences. Dangerous, yes. But, with our powers combined-- we are a strong, loving, logical, free-spirited, parenthood team. So, maybe we'll dive right in and let the fates decide when we'll be lucky enough to bring a little one into the world.
I think life is feeling a little too calm, I'm ready for some chaos-- cheers.
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