It's truly incredible how much a life can change within the small time line of just one year. Already, my son is five months old and every season is passing by with new meaning. Where once, I was content to daydream the days away, flittering about town, pretending I was some sort of artist, now I am responsible for another human's life. It's a little heavy and I don't deny that there are days I wish there was still room to flitter. It's a feeling I do try to suppress.
It's almost December and giving birth is a distant memory. I feel a little desperate - I see Jack growing in front of me like a runaway train. He has a sense of humor, now. And when I walk out of the room, he whimpers, he feels abandoned.
Every feeling he has - disappointment, sadness, confusion, joy - they're all magnified in me. Being a parent is just immense.
I lay awake a lot more than I should. I listen for his coos over the monitor, and I think about how I'm ever going to be enough for him. How am I going to teach my son about all the important things that he needs to know when I don't even know for myself, yet?
How am I going to teach Jack to eat healthy foods, when there are currently six different types of chips in my cupboard and two different kinds of ice cream in my freezer? How am I going to tell him to do well in school when I skipped approximately 70% of my classes, senior year of high school? What am I going to teach him about God and the Bible? What am I going to teach him about love? and death? and all the little meanings of life when I don't even know for myself?
My biggest fear used to be that I would end up like my parents. I was so afraid that I would live the majority of my life imprisoned in a passionless, 9-5 existence, pinned by a regenerating mortgage. They have never crossed an ocean.
Now that I am a mother, I look at their lives a little differently and I know that I would do everything that they did, I'd work at a 9-5 job forever so that I could give my son everything that he ever wanted. I understand, now, all that they sacrificed to pay that mortgage, so that they could always keep a roof over our heads. I used to ask my mother what she wanted to be when she grew up, and she would say: "Your mom."
"Clever," I thought.
So, now that I a mom, my fears haven't really changed all that much, they're just more dynamic, and the stakes are higher. Mostly, I am afraid that my son will see all of my failures, and that he will ask me questions that I will not know the answers to. I am afraid that he will not be proud of me.
There is no more time for flittering and dreaming. My kid is unknowingly and preemptively holding me accountable for all the things I want for myself. I no longer have the room to put off my best behavior, my best decisions. I eat healthier, today. I fold my clothes, today. I read the bible and thank God for loving me enough to give me such immense joy, today.
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