My Baby is Probably Going to MIT

I had a complete epiphany this week. Grace walked up to me in the kitchen, paused, and then just froze staring up at me. Her neck was craning so she could see all the way to my eyes. I stopped what I had been doing and was mesmerized by how calm and mature she looked. And then the realization smacked me in the face. Where did my baby go? It seems like all in one moment my baby is gone and has been replaced by this little person who can think, run, and have opinions of her own. She’s accomplished so many things for the first time in just a few short months.

Many of a child’s “firsts” are very memorable, surreal moments. I’ll never forget the night when Grace took her first steps. Her eyes were beaming as she caught the proud gaze from her parents. As she carefully took her hands off the side of the couch she squealed gleefully while tottering from one foot to the other. For us parents, the ‘firsts’ are our opportunity to see our once completely helpless infants begin to experience the world on their own. The first time our children do something is also extremely crucial to their development because they are constantly watching us to see how we react. They want to know if what they just did was a good thing or a bad thing. Our doctor described it as “baby scientists.” She said everything they do all day is just one experiment after the other. How does mom react when I hit the dog? If I use sign language to say, “Please” will I get what I want? So, when our children have their “first” moment, they may be initially proud of themselves for discovering something new, but ultimately, they are looking to us to decide what the outcome of their experiment is.

Sometimes it feels like my little scientist is a pint-sized genius. I wouldn’t be surprised if she grows up to be a real scientist someday after all the experiments she performs on a daily basis. One morning in particular I will never forget because she concluded one of her greatest experiments yet. We were all in church together during worship time and Gracie’s dad had lifted his hand to praise the Lord. As Gracie was being held in her dad’s arms I literally saw her eyes go from him, to his outstretched hand, and then to her hand as she tentatively raised it in the air. The second I saw her worshipping the Lord for the first time it made my heart leap with hope that one day she would knowingly understand what she was doing. As I watched her little hand gently sway back and forth I gave her a smile that immediately told her what she had done for the first time was a very good thing. Now whenever we go to church and the music starts, her hands go up in the air and she gets a very proud look on her face.

Some of her ‘firsts’ were incredibly easy to decide how to respond because they were undeniably awesome achievements. A few that will forever be on my top favorites list are her first words, first steps, and first time dancing. Another exciting first happened recently when Grace and I were out running some errands. A woman who was walking by stopped to wave at Grace and admire her toddler cuteness. Grace just stared at her for a moment trying to figure out what she had done to warrant such praise and attention. She hesitantly chewed on her finger as she assessed the woman’s face. She had no clue the woman was just admiring her for being a little one. When she finally realized the woman was excited about something she had done, without any warning, Grace took a deep breath and exclaimed, “HIIIIIIIII!!!” It was quite endearing because her voice did this roller coaster of inflection as she elongated the word. It was her first time greeting someone and based on my applause, she will be sure to do it again.

This week I got to add one more milestone to my ever-growing list of favorite “firsts” but I wish I could tell you I had responded differently. Sometimes I can be proud of myself for helping to teach her to praise the Lord or say "hi", but I’m definitely not perfect. As she continues to explore and experiment, there are just going to be some times when I may accidentally teach her something that is not necessarily socially acceptable.

One of these “failure” moments turned out to be pretty hysterical, and if it comes back to haunt me someday I hope I can just shrug it off and chuckle. I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my Kashi cereal while Grace made her usual morning rounds to check in on her “My Little Pony” stuffed animals. Her favorite thing is to carry all of them at once and weave in and out from under the table. As I ate my cereal, enjoying a rare moment of uninterrupted peace, I caught sight of Grace from the corner of my eye. She had paused momentarily directly under the center of the table because she had dropped Twilight Sparkle. As Gracie bent forward, her tummy was just barely protruding from the bottom of her shirt. She had to bend pretty far over to reach Twilight because she was already carrying such a load. As her tiny fingers finally reached Twilight’s purple mane, I could hear her audible grunt as she reached with all her might.

Her exertion proved to be just a little too much for such a tiny body, and right there under the table, for the ‘first’ time Gracie farted. Not just a harmless, infant-sized puff of air, no. The sound that came from her with such a force was something that sounded like it should have only come from an adult-sized person. I could have chosen that moment to simply ignore the offense and hope she didn’t catch on that she had even made the noise. But of course, that’s not what happened. The large bite of cereal that I had just plopped into my mouth came hurling forward as I burst into a fit of laughter. I can still feel the sensation of the cold milk dribbling down my chin as I tried to catch my breath.

The second Grace realized I was laughing at her she edged herself closer to the side of the table. She wanted a way to claim what she had just done and solidify that I was encouraging her bodily function. Her comedic timing was perfect as she popped her head out from underneath the table and giggle-screamed, “HIIIIIIII!!!!”

Is it the end of the world that I just taught my little scientist that loud farts will be rewarded with fits of laughter? Probably not. I have a false hope that she’ll keep her flatulence within the comforts of our home, but even if she does decide to extremely embarrass me by farting in the grocery store or during a sermon at church I suppose I’ll just have to bank on the hope that everyone, deep down in their heart of hearts, thinks toddler farts are funny.

What have you accidentally encouraged your toddler to do? Let’s hear it!

Blessings,

Shantastic

My Baby is Lois Lane

One of the most endearing things about my husband is that he loves superheroes. He’s not into collecting the comics but he gets lost in the stories of the characters. When we met I readily jumped on his “super” bandwagon because I knew fictional stories about people(and aliens) with superpowers would be full of rich storylines and exciting adventures. However, being the hopeless romantic that I am, I would get annoyed with my superheroes when they would pull their lame stunts like, “We can’t be together, it’s too dangerous.” I always wanted to throw my empty popcorn bowl at the tv and scream, “DUDE! You’re a freaking SUPERHERO! What could YOU possibly be afraid of??”

I, of course, would never deny Gracie my love like the superheroes often do. However, after looking into Grace’s eyes for the first time and feeling my heart double in size, I did finally start to understand where they were coming from. When Gracie entered my life she completely changed my understanding of what love really is. One of the most recent things she has taught me about love is that loving someone makes you vulnerable. When you have a child, the kind of love you feel makes you vulnerable to a point that your world would literally crumble into dust if anything bad ever happened to them. I think that must be why the Super guys are always trying to protect their gals by saying they can’t be together. If they openly love their leading ladies then they know their enemies will target the people they love, and that makes them vulnerable.

Obviously, with Grace I have a different situation than the Superheroes. I don't have to deny how much I love her. Thankfully I don’t have to distance myself from her because of a villainous bald guy who’s after me with a grudge. Grace is here, I love her, and by loving her, that makes me vulnerable. You know that gut-wrenching feeling of fear and worry you got the first time you let someone else watch your baby? That’s the kind of vulnerable I’m talking about. It’s irrational but it’s real. I wonder if the powerful superheroes worry about their leading ladies in the same way? Next to their super strength, speed, and magical talents, their loved ones probably look just as helpless as our babies do to us.

Some superhero’s origin stories detail the account of their initial struggle to accept their great responsibilities. With Gracie it’s been quite different; I’ve willingly accepted my calling of being her Supermom and protecting her the best I can. One of my Supermom responsibilities includes swooping in to save her as she is about to fall off the side of the couch. BAM! Supermom to the rescue! I’ll make sure your food isn’t too hot so you don’t burn the roof of your mouth! POW! Have no fear, mommy’s here!! I like being the one to “protect and serve” her, but sometimes I find myself wishing I had an energy source like Clark Kent does, something that could keep me from worrying about her all the time. When he is weak, all he needs is a quick dose of energy from the sun and he’s back to fighting crime with a force. How am I supposed to keep up with my Super-duties when she starts to venture off into the world? What about when she goes off to school? I’m pretty sure Supermom doesn’t get to tag along to Kindergarten.

I recently heard a humorous quote where a writer was asked, “After becoming a parent, at what point do you stop worrying about your kids?” The response that was given was the same response I think most parents would say, “never.” Worrying about your kids will probably always be every parent’s longest standing battle. Instead of defeating “bad guys” like the Superheroes I often find myself locked in a ring with my arch nemesis: worry. 

I try to conquer my worry by being her Supermom, but I hate to admit that I don’t possess the superpower to conquer it on my own. Left to my own devices I would allow myself to be completely consumed with worrying about her. I’ve always struggled in my life with trying to not worry too much and my love for her has made me even more vulnerable to it. I’m finally starting to realize that I need a source that comes from outside myself.  In the same way that the energy from the sun fuels Clark’s superpowers, I crave something in the Heavens that is bigger than myself. I believe I can finally conquer my worrying ways if I seek God and rely on Him to help me conquer my great enemy. Do you remember how I was talking earlier about how much I love Grace? How my world would cease to exist if anything ever happened to her? A mind-blowing truth that I believe in is that God loves her even more than I do. Why should I worry if the God who created the entire universe loves my little girl more than I will ever understand? Worry may be my Kryptonite, but God is my sun.

Epilogue: Oosta! This week’s post was a little heavy! I kept keeping my eyes open for a fun moment so that I could share a lighter perspective of motherhood this week but this idea of a love-induced vulnerability kept weighing on my heart. Maybe deep down I wanted to express it because I secretly wanted to know if I’m the only one who struggles with worrying for her child. I can't be, right? So, other moms and dads out there, do you ever wish you could just keep your kid locked up in a perpetual bubble of safety? Of course, I know that you have to live to grow, you have to hurt to heal, but oh…the worry that tries to creep in….I would never make it through the day if I didn’t have my sun.

Blessings,

Shantastic