Again, I've been remiss in posting on motherhood because I've been busy chasing a toddler who now can walk -- fast -- without the use of the walker (pictured) that she needed a month ago.
When did this all happen? She's transforming from baby to girl right before my eyes.
Only four months ago found me in China with a daughter placed in my arms against her will and sobbing in grief and fear (see photo, top, of Gotcha Night). Although I'm smiling in the photo, my heart is breaking for her.
Only four months ago, Ari didn't have fine motor skills and was immobile from the waist down. She could move her legs, but not in a purposeful way.
Now she's into everything, as a toddler should be. To my horror, she ate some soft cat food when my head was turned the other direction for a mega-second. And she liked it because she went for a second scoop. I stopped her, and for the rest of the day I was hesitant for her to kiss me with her cat-food-tainted lips.
And I wouldn't have it any other way. She's curious, inquisitive, active, and almost always happy. Her laugh is infectious, and her wide smile makes me love her more each day. Each day I discover a little more about who she is and wonder about the person she will wind up being.
I have also discovered through my motherhood journey that I'm not a typical mom, whatever a typical mom is. I love (and encourage) Ari's banging on pots and pans. The louder, the better. I love noisy toys; the more noise, the better.
I don't bring holiday treats for all the kids in day care, and I don't go to my day care's social functions. That will change, I'm sure, as Ari gets older, but right now, I'm the center of her world, so why bother sharing my time with her with others? When she's older and realizes her mother is fallible, then it'll be time to camouflage my mistakes by having us socialize with others.
Most importantly, I take care of myself. I get up early to write and oil paint, get together with friends (with Ari), get a monthly massage (without Ari; friends have been babysitting) and generally make sure my needs are met. Because when momma's happy, baby's happy. I think it's vital that mothers take care of themselves, as it is the hardest job in the world.
And I still spend a lot of time with and savor each moment with my precious girl. Because when all is said and done, I treasure the every day moments with her. I take nothing for granted and live each day, slowing down the moments and, in a Zen-like state, paying attention to the way she does everything: from the way her eyes shut in moments of glee to the way she sounds when she eats. Videos and cameras can't capture that feeling, so I have yet to videotape her (did I say I wasn't a typical mom?). But I've taken oodles of pictures.
I've captured the moments in my heart, but I need to capture the moments on tape (to embarrass her in her teenage years, of course!!).
Come to think of it, I'm going to get that camcorder soon.
Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.
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