I'm sitting here surrounded by piles of folded laundry that need putting away, and a basket that still awaits folding. The vacuum is still sitting out for that spare minute that I hope to get to finish the second half of my house, dishes from lunch still sit around and I have sandpaper and paint sitting out from some picture frames and a piano that I'm refinishing. Why all the half finished jobs...my baby LOVES to be held! If I set him down when he's sleeping, he'll sleep maybe five minutes and then wake up crying. My wrists are killing me from all the multi-tasking I've done with him in my arms. You might wonder why I'm blogging write now, instead of tackling some of my to-do's...the baby isn't in a deep enough sleep for me to put him down yet...I just know.
At first, I worried that all this holding him was going to spoil him, but according to the google searches I've done, you can't spoil a newborn by holding them too much. After four months, it's a different story the experts say.
But I'm also reminded of something else, something I really want to write about...my mom. When I was 18, I left home for Mesa. I lived with my mom's parents for a few months. At 18 I was perfectly aware of what I thought were my parents imperfections. My grandfather saw something different. One conversation I had with him still stays with me.
My grandfather said that when my mom would come over to visit them my sister and me would get into everything. "Jeanne, you need to get after your kids", my grandparents would tell my mom. But she'd always reply back with the same response, "I'll just love 'em". My grandfather admitted to being very concerned about my mother's philosophy on parenting. "We worried about how you kids would turn out," he said. "But look at you all. You're turning out just fine. Your mom was the one that taught us. She knew all along. I'll just love 'em..." My grandfather's voice trailed off as he starred off in the distance thinking about the things he'd just told me.
"I'll just love 'em". Simple philosophy on parenting, but effective. Come what may I knew that two people would always love me, my mom and God (sorry dad, i knew you loved me too, but for some reason I'd always think of mom...I'd probably cite you if this were a story on justice :)) Over the years growing up, I always knew that whatever stupid thing I did, I could tell my mom because she wouldn't overreact and she'd still love me. It kept me out of too much trouble. That same love also comforted me when I dealt with the embarrassment of severe acne, and the rejection and dissappointment that came with several years of being single. And on my mission I would write home about how difficult all the rejection was. My mom wrote back what I intially thought was, 'I wish I could be there with you', but then as I did a double take on the sentence, I realized she'd instead written, "I wish I could take your place." What better tutorial to understanding God's love, than to have someone love you like that.
So for right now, I'll hold my boy. There will be plenty ahead of him in life where his mom can't be there to hold him.
(me, dad, Shannon, mom)
