Friday, March 16, 2007

The "Prop" and Hidden Perspective


It buys me over two extra "free-hand" hours in a day. Though, if time and other children permit...I jump at the chance to "hand feed" sweet Hazel and we just stare into eachother's eyes. Sometimes she can hardly contain herself and must stop sucking to crack a smile. I love that certain smiles are reserved for me--at least that's how I see it. These itsy bitsy baby months are way to brief not to savor such an exchange.

I feel such an intense ownership for my babies, all three. It is wearying and wonderous. And yet, they are not mine at all. They are their own beings destined to feel even less of a connection to me as they grow and mindfully fulfill their own desires and dreams in this life, despite a doting and devoted mother. I can't imagine, now, that I will ever ache to be needed in their future separate lives. Now, in my present, there are waves and waves of need washing over my tired eyes and head each hour of every day...how could I possibly long for this drain on my nearly 30-year-old being. Yet, there is a suspicion in a quiet corner of the back of my mind where perspective lives and hides, that this ache will come. It will come. I will long for even a few moments of a quiet gaze between us and the urge to give up a smile will be more than enough.

13 comments:

Jill said...

These are sweet pictures Jordan, and your words are beautiful as usual. I definitely understand how hard it is to imagine feeling the ache of having kids need us, especially when you're in the stage of wanting to run and hide just to have a moment to yourself. Susan (a fellow blogger--linked on my blog) wrote an opposite post about how she blinked and her kids grew up, so that was a good reminder for me.

Elizabeth said...

Of course you have captured it again. I always think I will be the Mom who wll know when my kids are adults. But I can see why that is so hard for so many Moms.

Katy said...

Isn't it fascinating (and exhausting!) to experience the polar opposite feelings of a mother? The same things I relish are very often the same things that make me want to pull out my hair. I want my kids to feel and learn autonomy, but, at the same time, I want them to need me. NOTHING in this world teaches one about spiritual, intellectual, and psychological growth as that of being a mother.

rebecca said...

I wish I could access that special corner of my brain at will - my perspective so often HIDES as well. Likely, we will have some difficulty looking *back* clearly as well - our perspective will again be altered!

Kristi Brooke said...

St. Patrick's Day is here, you see.
We'll pick some shamrocks, one, two, three.
We'll count the leaves and look them over,
And maybe find a four-leafed clover.
I'll sew green buttons on my vest,
Green for St. Patrick is the best.
I'll wear a green hat, very high,
And dance a jig--at least I'll try!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

sista # 2 said...

Beautiful words indeed. Wonderful!
-ciao, Janae

Amy said...

I loved every bit of this. It's me daily...cursing the difficulties of now, but achingly dreading their end. Beautiful, beautiful paradox. Hold those babies tight.

Kelly said...

Wearying and wondrous. You have summed it up so well. Perspective is so hard to get ahold of when you're right in the middle of it. I really can't imagine it ever ending. I have a friend in my ward, also with 4 girls -- but 8 years older than mine. I always look to her for a hint of my future. Her oldest left for college in September, and it was a huge wakeup call for me that this ends sooner than we think. I should probably call her daily and discuss this fact -- it would help me keep my "in the moment" perspective of it all.

amy m said...

As always your thoughts resonate with mine. You write in the way my heart feels it, but my words cannot express. I too cannot image now ever feeling that ache for them, but truly know it will come.

Crystalyn said...

jordan, i love reading your words and perspective. i need these reminders constantly. at times i already ache thinking that maybe i too quick to want time to myself...it's hard when one feels so empty at the end of the day. but words like these remind me to keep on keeping on knowing that i will one day ache that this too has passed. thanks for writing this down.

annalisa said...

Beautiful. It is the intensity of the now that will make us miss it so much later. I relish the mornings my little girl climbs into my bed and snuggles up to me, that at 5 she will still do that because at 6 I doubt I'll get much physical contact.

Amy W. said...

Sweet Jordan, what a beautiful post. I, too, am continually caught up in the paradox. Wishing for a moment's peace, but never wanting them to grow up. Thank you for expressing it so well.

michelle said...

Motherhood seems filled with these bittersweet paradoxes. I cannot imagine the freedom of not being desperately needed. Yet I suppose a time will come when I will wish they still needed me. Beautifully expressed.