Battles in the Heart

If you've ever wondered why (at least most) grannys are old and gray (aside from the obvious fact that they are generally older than those of us that aren't grandparents), it's gotta be because parents, and perhaps Moms in particular, are fighting constant battles. There are battles with laundry and cleaning and other housework, sometimes battles at an outside job, battles to keep the family healthy and fed and decently clothed, battles with the kids of various ages over various subjects, and so on and so on. I've been known to tell folks that I thought when my stint as a stay at home Mommy was done, I should be well qualified for a career as a military strategist. But perhaps the hardest battles Mommies fight are the battles with ourselves.

Even when we are relatively happy, well-adjusted Moms, we fight battles with ourselves. A new Mom fights constant insecurities with her first child ... is that cough just because of the dust in the air, or does the little one need to go to the doctor? How high a fever is too high? (The first time I had a child's fever go over 103, I was seriously stressed.) I wrote a whole piece a while back about the "Back To Sleep" campaign, and how insane it can make a new Mom.

There are other battles, though, that aren't as obvious, but can be just as wearing. When you bring a new child home from the hospital, you are full of the wonder of this new little person in your care. As they grow, we keep track of each "milestone" in their life ... things like when they roll over for the first time, when they sit on their own, their first tooth, their first steps, their first "Mama!" All these things are bright spots in their lives and ours, assuring us that they are growing and learning, and we aren't quite as inadequate as we thought when the first baby came home.

When the last little one starts getting a little older, though, Moms like me tend to start fighting other battles. My youngest is two, and will be three in about 4 short months. I love watching him learn and grow, but I am sad, too ... sad because I know that (barring any unexpected surprises) there won't be any more little ones in the house. Because every "milestone" achieved is one less sweet moment that I'll experience again. He's already outgrown his high chair ... within a few months he'll also be moving out of his crib. He's not really a baby any more, and sometimes I'm left wondering where the baby went. I wouldn't slow or stop his progress for anything, but nostalgia can be a battle like none other, and one that folks don't always see. I'm thankful to have a loving husband who knows where I'm coming from, and provides the support I need for these battles with myself. Things may get me down occasionally, but I never stay down for long ... I've got too much to do, and my children need their CO. They will have their own battles to fight in life, and it's my job to prepare them as well as I can. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.