I had been around a lot of new babies and yeah they are cute and all, but for me, it was about so much more. When I thought about having a baby, I always thought about who they would become. What kind of man would I raise? What kind of husband would he be? How would I teach him to treat me and respect women? Would I love and encourage him enough to follow his dreams and to create something spectacular? Would he be a leader, someone people look up to and listen to? These are the thoughts that weighed heavy on my mind. I wasn’t just having a baby. It was so much more.
My husband and I had long talks about how we would raise our kids. What values were important to us, what standards mattered. Integrity, honesty, commitment, courage. I take this responsibility serious. How about you? I have no judgments on any other mother. I just sometimes wonder if women think about stuff like this. I’m curious.
My son is eleven months now. This last year has had challenges, glorious moments, heartache, and times of indescribable joy. There are the days that he doesn’t nap or sleep, blowouts at the store with no extra clothing, sore nipples and nursing strikes, long nights awake with the flu, teething pain and alligator tears. But I have a vision of where we will all be in ten years, in twenty years and why all this matters. Everything has a purpose. Days can run together and sometimes it’s frustrating when I feel like all I’ve done in a day is feed him, change him, play with him, and try to get him to sleep. But more often than not, I remember why we’re doing all of this for him and then I find I’m less frustrated, less irritated, and even hopeful and optimistic.
Shoot. I might even venture to say I’m not just having fun, I’m having a blast!!!