I have a lot of emotions going through me right now. My two precious boys are at their second night of VBS and I'm sitting here on the couch with my girl. It's the perfect opportunity to give words to all these things running through my mind.
I've been thinking about what it takes to be a good mom. How I can be better. I do that horrible thing where I compare myself to everyone around me. The confidence is lacking and it's one thing that grosses me out about myself. But that's a thought for another time...
I'm learning there are several ways to be a good mom. I know I love my kids and that's the driving force. That love covers a lot. It pushes me, and tonight it comes in the form of a blog post.
My Isaac will be going into FIRST grade in exactly 22 days...more like 21 since this day is on it's way out. It's something I can't quite get my head around. Those around me, I'm sure, are rolling their eyes due to the fact that I'm always bringing it up. But I can't help it, I need to immerse myself in it, get wholly used to the idea in order to work it out. In doing so, my hope is that they won't have to drag me out of his classroom on that dreaded first day, a sobbing mess.
My mind keeps going to that place of a year ago we were gearing up for Kindergarten. The whole first week I cried at drop off as I watched my big boy walk into that great big building without me next to him, holding his hand.
The images of his first few years keep my mind occupied. While I'm cleaning up breakfast dishes and folding laundry I look for that baby face I fell in love with a few short years ago. I've never been so instantly changed by any other moment in my life than when I pushed that little 6 pound, 15 3/4 ounce body from mine and hearing Joe say the words "it's an Isaac!!" when I asked him whether it was a boy or girl, a surprise we saved for that very moment. And life stood still.
I love that our OB and sweet friend came in to deliver him. Nine months earlier his wife told me during one of our coffee/bible study get togethers that I better not go into labor on New Year's Eve. They were going to a party and he had scheduled the night off. Of course, my water broke that very night. I labored while Dick Clark counted down to the new year and at 3:27 a.m. on January 1st, my sweet boy made his debut.
I can't stop myself from remembering how we bonded once all the visitors left and it was just the two of us in that room, the room where my dream to be a mama came true. I couldn't wait for him to wake up in the middle of the night to nurse. We listened to WFCJ, the Christian radio station fed through the tiny speaker of the hospital bed. I remember praying over that little life and thanking God for the gift, for that breath of heaven, He was entrusting to me!
How has that been six and a half years? I know this is life. This is how it's supposed to be. I know it's important for him to learn things on his own, trust his instincts, make friends. To spread those growing wings. I just wasn't prepared for the moment to arrive so soon.
I'm definitely still processing the whole thing but I'm also figuring out my game plan. I think it looks something like this, instead of focusing on where we've been I'm attempting to shift directions a bit. I will be his biggest cheerleader, a support for him to stand tall, to show him he is quite capable of making good choices. I will give him the opportunities to prove to himself he's all of these things and so much more.
He can do this, and I'm learning I can too. And, who knows, maybe by the time Selah is entering first grade I will be the mom partying at the bus stop on the first day of school...