So here I am, doing what I said I wouldn't, for a while at least. The truth is, I've missed this blog just as much as some of you have. I forgot how freeing it was to have this space in which to openly express my current thoughts and experiences on motherhood. What a loopy ride it all is! But I've been charged with writing so much these days, in various formats, that frankly I get a little sick of feeling 'obligated' to do it. Unfortunately the first thing to get axed is the blog...
But LGO's second anniversary is a week from today. (As I type this, I'm breaking out into a pre-birthday bash sweat -- just as well there is no webcam!) To mark the major milestone, we are throwing not one but TWO parties in the little prince's favour. One here at home, the other at my parents' house. Imagine, this wee guy's only been around for 24 months and already has so many friends in so many places. We couldn't rightly snub one group in favour of another. So yes, I'm dumbing down the festivities as much as possible. But no matter how you dice it: a party with the under-two set is bound to be stressful by virtue of its guest list.
So it was fitting that in the wake of his anniversary LGO thew me a bone. The other night as he was climbing the stairs to bed, he blew me a kiss goodnight. It didn't matter that he was copying me; it melted my heart all the same. (And must be something to do with age, but my heart is more margarine than butter these days.) And tonight as we're walking around the block as part of our evening family ritual, as he tries to grasp my leg like a tree hugger, he says: 'I want mommy!' It didn't matter that what he wanted was for mommy to carry him the rest of the way. It was the fact that he said the words aloud. My heart promptly turned into a puddle at his size-7 feet.
The more vocal and articulate he becomes --and we witness his evolution with each and every passing day-- the more our connection grows stronger. He doesn't understand everything I tell him, but at least I make a point to try to explain. And most of the time he staggers me by sitting on the step to put his shoes on, or walking back and putting the crayon back into the container. Even when he clearly disobeys, the fact that he understands enough to rebel kind of thrills me. It took two years, yet I've finally come to the conclusion that babies aren't my forte. They may be helpless and tiny and vulnerable, but in their charge I wind up feeling just as helpless and vulnerable.
Of course there are always issues, and I'm fairly sure the terrible twos aren't called terrible for nothing. The main issue I have right now is this resolution not to 'give him' a brother or a sister. Even the phraseology suggests that I am cruelly withholding something that is rightly his to have. I don't consider that I'm doing him a hardship by making him an only child; quite the opposite in fact. I consider it a favour, a service to LGO and to all of humankind, for that matter. Having said that, I want to do my best to socialize him so that he isn't painfully shy or selfish like I was for many years (and still have a tendency to be. As the saying goes, it takes one to know one!)
Having my son has brought me to the highest --and lowest-- points in my life. One child almost broke me. I don't want to see what two can do to my psyche, not to mention my happy-enough family. Call me crazy (ok, so maybe not to my face) but I don't like to tempt fate that way. I've learned hard lessons so far. The main one being Buddhist in nature: change, especially where children are concerned, is the only constant. Just when you figure out one stage, they've moved on to something else. You can never clap your hands and think, Yes, by jove I've got it! because some new challenge is bound to crop up, regardless of your child and your particular circumstance in life. And this will go on for as long as I (and my son) are still on this earth breathing. Another forty or even sixty years if we are that lucky...
One thing is for sure, there truly is nothing comparable to being a parent. Like time, the relationship is never static, but keeps on growing and evolving. My son surprises and challenges me every day. And just when I think I can't love him any more than I do right now, somehow I manage to.