I had to laugh at myself this morning. Not that it’s anything new, laughing at myself, but this morning I had a good guffaw at my own expense. It was another one of those moments when I realized that I know nothing absolutely about this crazy roller coaster ride called motherhood.
What made me laugh was nothing more than realizing, once again, for the umpteenth time this week, that Pumpkin is growing and learning at an amazing clip. It probably isn’t anything any different from any other child, but as my first (and, most importantly, as MINE) it’s downright amazing.
Now, that isn’t the funny part. No, the funny part was my memory of a comment I made after Pumpkin learned to walk. I’m almost embarrassed to admit the somewhat-disappointed statement I made just moments after the exhilaration of her finally walking settled in. This is what I said: “I guess the second year isn’t nearly as exciting since she’s had all her firsts now.”
Ha, ha, ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha. Ha. HA!
Okay, you can quit laughing now. I almost have.
Even just three months into this second year, I am dumbfounded by the growth and learning I see taking place every day. It’s been mind-blowing. And, no offense to the first year, but it has been so much more exciting.
Don’t get me wrong. The first year was life-changing, incredible, unbelievable, and full of more love and pure joy than I can imagine. But, let’s be honest. The first year was also filled with a lot of other stuff. You know, stuff like those first seemingly endless weeks where she was basically just a ball of need wrapped (not swaddled, since I never did get that burrito baby thing down) in a wool blanket in the middle of June, waking only to put me to work filling her most basic and sometimes vile needs. Then there were those countless moments of sheer panic – full-on-frenzy if you will – as I held a screaming baby that the Internet was advising either had an ear infection or some incurable genetic disorder (don’t worry, it was the former). And don’t even get me started about the nights. Oh, the nights. Fumbling around, looking somewhat like an escaped Charles Manson if he was REALLY crazy, unable to see, finding my baby by nearly poking her in the eye Helen Keller style and then standing in the middle of a dark nursery swaying like a maniac and crying in tune with her, praying she would just sleep. So, yeah, many of the firsts are over and I couldn’t be more excited.
I know you’ve probably heard it enough, but I can't say it enough - she’s becoming a full-fledged little girl – pretending, communicating, and just generally hamming it up for her adoring fans. When I see her sling her “purse” on her shoulder and start waving bye-bye, I am abruptly reminded that I am a living example to her and that she is watching my every move (no pressure there). I’m also reminded of how quickly time flies – it was just one short year ago that she was that unswaddled blob I referenced earlier.
Not that I am disillusioned that all the hard things are over. In fact, I’m sure in some respects the hardest are yet to come, like skinned knees and broken hearts, but I’m finally growing into my mommy-pants and am ready for all the exciting things that the second, the third, and the twentieth year, and so on have in store for Pumpkin. The world really is her oyster and I cannot wait to continue to grow with her and watch her become the little lady she is going to be.
As I watch her dancing to Mickey Mouse, I wonder if she’ll be a star musician; as I watch her devour book after book “reading”, I wonder if instead she’ll be a writer or (gasp!) a lawyer like Ma-Ma (or “Ba-Ba”, if you will). And at the end of the day, as I think about the endless possibilities in front of her, I realize that my parents and all other parents really truly mean it when they say they just want their children to be happy. That’s all I want for Pumpkin – happiness, whatever that means for her…and so far, my prayers in that respect are being answered.
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