The Motherly Instinct

I found an idea on Pinterest for an activity table using an old coffee table, so I posted the final product on Facebook. Now to be clear I did not post a picture of Charlotte licking a splintered piece of driftwood that I had just dipped in lead paint and lined with shards of glass, however the reaction was similar. My husband was excited because he had an excuse to buy a router bit to round out the edges for extra safety. I had yet to put on corner guards, give a shout out to my husband, or identify what type of environmentally friendly non-toxic paint I had used and my newsfeed was flooded with concern. I started musing that I have surrounded myself with people who exude the motherly trait. For example, I have never left to drive anywhere without my own mother reminding me to “drive safely”.  I’ve never been a reckless driver nor have I ever gotten a ticket (although I have been pulled over. Ohhhh high school!). Now that I have a daughter of my own, I completely recognize that my mom's desire to always keep me safe will never change, even though her baby has just turned 30. Everyday I have to fight the urge to plaster Charlotte in bubble wrap and buy her a helmet. 

This is how Charlotte feels about her table.

While I was a Special Ed teacher I worked with a group of women whom my co-worker and I fondly referred to as “The Mothers” because they would remind us to eat our vegetables or put on a jacket when we had bike duty. Sometimes we’d have to ask one of the mothers (Mother Mary, actually) to plug her ears if we thought a lunch time conversation topic would be too risky for her pure heart. It is unlikely I will ever fall completely under this category, but I will always do what I think is safest and best for my daughter. I remind my husband to wear his seatbelt and I only feed Charlotte organic baby food. I’d like to believe I have my own blend of maternal snark; I will always put foam corners on tables and then roll my eyes while Charlotte pulls them off and uses them as teethers.

Look, Mom!

Charlotte building while standing!

I might be wrong about this, but I am pretty sure my heart is going to explode with pride. There is something about watching your child begin to learn that makes the teacher in me do mini freeze frame jumps for joy in the air. It happens around 9 months or so, the wheels begin to turn: I tell her to come here and she does, she can even give me a kiss! I ask her if she wants more and she gives me the baby sign for more, which to the untrained eye looks like clapping. That’s a separate request and you have to say, “Yay!” or clap yourself. Is there anything more comical than having a room full of college educated adults clapping for no reason other than to watch a baby put her hands together repeatedly? This is how we will be spending our holidays.

I was never fanatical about Charlotte learning how to crawl. I was excited sure and I lost 5 pounds within the first 10 days, but I knew it meant she’d have virtually unlimited access to all things. Now that we’ve reached the mobility stage and there are no boundaries, I’m eager for her to start walking. Something about her graduating into bipedalism will transform her into an actual little person. As with all things related to parenting there can be no rushing these things. There are no tricks or devices that can speed this process up. It is the first of many times our children get to decide when they are ready and to remind us that, just in case we forgot, we have absolutely no control whatsoever. So while they are learning to talk the talk and walk the walk it is our job to simply put our hands together.

For My Grandpa

Over the weekend my grandpa passed away. He was the one who showed me that family is the greatest gift we have here on Earth. I’ve said before that children make everything better and there is no greater chicken soup for my soul than hearing my daughter laugh when all I can do is cry. She smiles with her whole face, like he would. I find myself telling Charlotte stories about her great grandpa. I told her how overjoyed he was to find out she was coming and that he got to hold her when she was only a day old in the hospital. He said having a girl as the oldest child was his experience and we shared that now. I told her that she got to celebrate his 90th birthday with him. She even looks like him. I think about what he would want for us as a family and it is just this; sharing in the joy of children, after all he had 7 of them!

My grandpa had 16 grandchildren and yet each one of us had a special relationship. I remember he was always on the floor with us; knee deep in toys and imagination. He loved to play the organ and chess with at least three of us snuggled up on his lap. If we weren’t there you could always find us in the pool. We'd hold onto his back and he’d swim for what felt like forever with us submerged, clinging onto him; bubbles shooting out of our grinning mouths. Grieving is like the wind, you can’t see it you can only experience it. It will come and go in waves and I’ll let it wash over me completely. Just when it feels like too much, I reach out for my daughter and she reaches back for me. It is in those moments that I no longer feel sadness just a deep sense of gratitude because I can feel him there, on the floor with us.