What I Can Do for my Children

I started out today wanting to write a blog entry about how, in spite of the sleepless nights and all my tears and moaning on Facebook I really do enjoy my children and love being their mom.  It was a good day to try to remember that.  Devin slept pretty soundly most of yesterday afternoon and was fussy and uncomfortable by evening.  Not wide awake and wanting to play but crying and uncomfortable.  He would arch his back when he cried and although he passed some gas he grunted and strained but didn't poop.  Around 11:30 I put him in the sling and went outside with him.  He was asleep before I got to the corner, but by 7 the next morning I was doing the same thing.  I can't tell you how many times I nursed him or how many diapers (mostly not poopy) I changed in between.  I don't remember.

This isn't last night, but another, similar moment, picture taken by Liam.

The jury's still out on whether all this trouble was caused by a small sliver of cheese I absentmindedly ate while making Liam's lunch yesterday.  Part of me wants to think so because that would mean I could influence his tummy troubles and possibly avoid the worst of them.  By this evening he was back to having moments when he could be awake and calm, although like his brother he knows when he's been left alone and usually hates it.

Still, there are small moments of beauty and joy.  That soft, fuzzy head.  The creases on those pudgy arms.  The occasional expression that looks like a smile and might not be just gas.  Sitting on the floor with Liam on my lap and Devin on his.  Singing silly songs.  Watching his confused face when I lift his arms and say "The baby is SO big!"  (I can just hear his little sarcastic self saying, "Really lady, are you just finding this out now?  Are my arms the best way you can measure?"  I crack myself up.)

Then there's Liam, who is always thinking.  Today he made a special effort not to yell at his parents.  He noticed that he was doing a good job at it and concluded it was because he was less tired than usual.  He said he slept more and stayed in bed to rest for a while after he woke up.  This evening I watched him drive a Lego monster truck over a pile of rocks.  Then he closed his eyes and played the scene back in his head before replaying it.  I know this is what he was doing because he told me so.  Where does he get these ideas?  I want to much for his beautiful, creative mind to bring joy to his life.  Sometimes it hurts me to think about it because I know the world is not always kind to people with beautiful, creative minds.

So I have veered off track.  Jumped the rails, actually.  Being a mom, besides being hard and exhausting, gives me joy, brings humor to my life, and fills me with wonder.  Also, I fear for my children and when I'm tired and can't give them everything I want to I feel pain because I know that I can't really protect them from the hard realities of the world.  I only hope that they can see the joy I find in loving them and find enough comfort in that to...what?  To have lives that are mostly characterized by loving, joyful relationships?  To weather the grief that comes along?  To have memories and build lives that are full of small, beautiful moments?  Something like that.  When I'm running on empty I want everything for my children.  Everything good I can think of.  And some of the good I can't even imagine.  I remind myself that I can't give them most of what I want for them.  I can only touch them and see them and listen to them and be with them.  And only as much as I can.  No guarantees, but I think it will make a difference.