I’ve become a mother, three times now. Each time, motherhood came bearing gifts like the welcome wagon of life. Sometimes tucked in underneath the obvious gifts were other things I didn’t know I even needed and some I certainly thought I never wanted.
The first time motherhood came knocking, I didn’t see her coming. She parked a few blocks a way, dressed in camouflage and moved swiftly though the night. And when I least expected it, she showed up with a baseball bat and mugged me. She took things like late night parties, eating popcorn for dinner and my one bedroom apartment. She took them and replaced them with shot gun wedding plans, baby showers and a 3 bedroom home in the suburbs. These were things I did not want! These were things that were supposed to come later, after I met Mr. Right, after we honeymooned in Hawaii and after I became a big-time career woman with designer suits and a Gucci briefcase. Not to mention I had professed to anyone who would listen that I would NEVER have children. Children were needy and I wasn’t responsible enough to keep anyone else alive, let alone HAPPY! But motherhood came anyway, uninvited, unannounced and unwanted. Less than 3 months after my daughter was born, I quit my job because it wasn’t “family friendly”, I traded my two door car for a four door sedan and the first Christmas tree we ever had as a family was filled with toys and tiny outfits all wrapped up as though she was the only person on Earth that mattered.
I always think to myself how it wasn’t really James and I that made us a family, it was Christine. She gets the credit for saving me from a life that I never knew I didn’t even want. Christine gets the distinction of making me a mother, making me see outside of myself, giving me the courage to stand up for what I know is right in the name of setting the bar high for her. That is the gift that was tucked underneath, the one I didn’t see when Motherhood came knocking.
The second time Motherhood arrive, she was a welcome and invited guest. She couldn’t get here fast enough. We sent the invitation by priority mail. And let me tell you, once she got that invitation, she must have taken the first flight to town. This time I was sure there would be no room for surprises in her little basket. How could she really surprise us, I mean, we were holding the door open for her, there would be no surprises.
Everything about our lives centered on our child. Sharp corners were padded, the cupboards were full of little plastic plates and cups, the laundry was full of little clothes, everything was miniature. There were little baby dolls and tiny pots and pans. We had a little kitchen and a little toilet. We were knee deep in little. And when Jayne arrived, well she was little too.
Jayne was just what we wanted. First she was a girl and I really wanted a girl. I wanted Christine to have a sister and I wanted to watch them grow up together. I wanted to see that they were friends and I wanted them to need each other as much as I needed them. When Jayne got here it was as if we were just waiting for her so we could start our real lives.
Nearly 7 years later, I can still say all of that is true. They are best friends when they want to be. They share a room and share secrets and share a love of all things gross. And as hard as it is for me to remember some days, they aren’t the same. They don’t have the same personality, they don’t really look the same, they don’t act the same, they don’t excel at the same subjects. They are completely and utterly unique human beings. And for as much as Christine is like me, Jayne is the exact opposite. She is loud and funny and forgetful. She is confident and artistic and friendly. And she makes me remember that being a little bit crazy and a little bit funny and a little bit ornery is okay too. That not everything has to be planned, not everything has to be perfect. That was the gift we found long after Motherhood left. She had tucked it away in a place she was sure we would find it when we needed it.
The third time Motherhood came we himmed and hawed for several months trying to decide if we wanted her to come back. For one, the guest room had been taken over by the girls. There really wasn’t any room for her if she was going to come and stay. For two, Motherhood can be kind of unpredictable and we liked that we had a predictable kind of life. We had dinner plans most Friday nights with friends of ours. The girls were in school and they had sports and our friends had kids the same age. It was a life we had come accustomed too. But in the end, we decided that we kind of missed seeing our old friend, so we sent the invitation off.
She must have missed us too, because she showed up the next day. We had to rearrange some stuff, the girls got bunk beds and we got rid of enough stuff so we could make room for her. She was fun to have around. The girls had never met her before. They asked her a lot of questions about why she was here and what she was doing and how long she was staying and exactly what she was leaving us. This time, I knew there would be surprises. I knew from experience that I would find them, one by one, when the time was right.
I probably haven’t found them all yet, but one of them was that we all need to slow down a little bit. That dinner every Friday night with friends will come back when Jax is older, but for now, Friday nights are a lot like Wednesday nights. We make supper and give baths and go to bed at 10 o’clock. We play on the floor and watch TV. Sometimes we play games with the girls too. Sometimes we just crash on the couch. That just hanging out together can be fun too. That watching your older children make your younger children laugh is something you wish you could put in a jar and keep forever. That for right now this is what life is all about.
I’m sure in a few months I will stumble across some more hidden treasure that Motherhood left me. I’m hoping that some of them show me what being the mother of a little boy is really like. And I’m hoping it’s a complete surprise.
No comments:
Post a Comment