Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I love being James' Mommy. I love being the first person he sees in the morning and the last person he sees at night. I love feeding him, changing him (even when it's disgusting), I love washing him and clothing him. I love listening to him make all kinds of sounds. I love watching him inch and scoot around and try to sit up. I love kissing his hands and feet and face. I love tickling him. I love the look of surprise on his face when we play peekaboo. I love that he lights up when he sees me and that he quiets down if he's fussing and I pick him up. I love that he's so bright. I know what it means to say that someone is the light of your life now. He is everything to me.

What I don't love is all the stress about money and where to live and insurance and going back to/ being at work (even though I like my job and coworkers). I don't love being James' chauffeur to and from his father's house. I don't love having to make sure that both my house and his father's house are safe for him. I don't love staying up nights worrying about our future.

Being a mom is really hard. It's vastly harder than I thought it would be, and believe me, with my imagination being as good as it is, I knew it would be very hard. I just didn't count on being so tired, or on getting sick from being tired. I have to take better care of myself because I'm James' main support. I think I might be his everything, too. I know he knows that there are other people out there, but I'm the main person he knows. I'm his best friend in this world and I think he knows I love him more than and differently from anyone else.

It's fascinating to me to watch him figuring out that we aren't the same person. It takes a baby a little while to realize this, but he's figuring out that my hands aren't his (although I let him play with and chew on my hands). He's figuring out that he's his own little man and that sometimes, it'll take a little while for me to come get him, but that I will come. He's started doing this thing when he first wakes up where he starts "talking" and gets louder gradually until I answer him or come see him. It's really cute, sort of like this: mmmmmrrrrrrrmmmmglllllrrrrrr... ... AhhhglalGALAgala orrrrmmmmuguhlugulug... ... AHGLaaahhrrrruuuhhhhLRRRRRLLLLRRRRRRRUH... ... AAAHHHGAGAGALLLLLAAAHHHHRRRROOOOOOMMMMM (By this point I'm usually right on top of him picking him up out of the crib and he's all smiles because he knows he's got me.) He doesn't even hardly cry when he wakes up now because he knows I will be there.

I never knew I could feel like this. It's both the best and scariest thing in the world to have so much trust and faith placed in me.

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