Sunday, November 28, 2010

Magical Moments

I've always planned on being a mother, so I've been imagining some specific moments in my life as a mother since I was a little girl. (Pathic? Probably. True? Definitely.)

It's mostly the simple things - things I've seen my mom (and other moms) do.
A child balanced on his mother's hip, while something is cooking on the stove and the phone balanced in the crook of her neck with the cord wrapped around her.
Walking the halls at church while the little one holds the fingers of the mom.
A toddler comes crying to his mother because of a skinned knee, and she crouches down as he runs into her arms.
A mom brushes her little boy's hair out of his eyes, and kisses his forehead and whispers that she loves him.
A baby snuggles into his mother's chest while she gently rocks him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
A giant gangly teenage man-child throws his arm around his mother's shoulder and she holds him up, because no matter how big he gets, she can always hold him up.

But then there are the big moments.
The first day of school.
The birthday cake.
The wedding day.
The riding of the bike.
The newborn midnight feedings.

I'll admit that I have (and probably will continue to) intentionally set the stage so I can have some moments worth remembering.

When I look back at midnight feedings, I get to remember sitting in my rocking chair, looking up through the closed blinds at the moon while my little one sleeps sweetly in my arms and the lullabyes and smells of baby powder surround us. That's because I staged that moment and burned it in my memory forever. I use baby powder because it smells good. I put the rocking chair where I could gaze up at the stars at night. I turned on the music because I wanted to remember it. So it might be lame, but I want some of those moments to be exactly as I imagined them. And some of them are.

Yesterday it was the first real steps. Not the ish steps. The straight out of a movie, from mom to dad, with the Christmas tree glowing in the background, two wobbly steps and a fall forward into the arms of the parent steps. Those steps.

The. First. Steps.

If I had a camera crew and a stylist and a designer in my home, it wouldn't have been more perfect. But you'll never know that because I don't have any of those things. Which is probably what it was perfect.

There were toys and clutter all around us. The tv was on. The mom looked as frumpy as she gets and the dad was wearing a scary beanie* and a hoodie.

Tommy had taken a step toward me earlier in the day, so when Josh was ready for a 5 minute break from homework, we were happy to sit across from each other and play "walk baby walk!" And baby walked.
On purpose.
Intentionally.
He stood.
He thought about it.
He looked at dad.
He put one foot in front of the other and took deliberate steps.
Then we turned him around and he walked toward me.
Back and forth, he humored us for maybe 5 or 6 laps before he decided that sitting is cooler.

Each time he fell into our arms we scooped him up and laughed and clapped and kissed him senseless.

There has never been anything so beautiful. Ever.

I'm sorry you missed it.

*Bubbah is terrified of hats. Josh is wearing a beanie because apparently 68 is freakin' cold indoors. Tommy spent a solid 15 minutes crying every time he looked at Josh, then he removed the hat and put it on me and I was suddenly the terrifying parent.

2 comments:

  1. ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh Good job Tommy!

    ReplyDelete
  2. My heart just took a picture--and I wasn't even there! :)

    ReplyDelete

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