Since I last wrote, it seems there has been a recent baby boom. Friends and family alike, lots of babies have been born, especially of the male persuasion. Although I have tender memories from those early days, there is no way I am aching to return to the sleepless nights, sore nipples and endless crying. It seems Jude is quickly evolving from the helpless, passive infant stage into the little boy/toddler era.
Not that I don’t miss the baby stage- actually, I miss his baby breath because now if I forget to brush his teeth, he gets stinky breath just like the rest of us- but I’m just loving how inquisitive and interested Jude is in everything. He now “answers” the phone, pressing buttons simultaneously and cooing into the mouthpiece. When music plays, he claps his hands to the beat and he can mimic sounds and gestures. When he returned from New York last night, sleepy and smiley, he sat cross-legged on my bed and double-fisted a banana. Afterwards, he alternated sucking on an orange peel (don’t ask), the banana and a passifier. At one point, Jude tried shoving all three in his mouth. After gagging and nearly regurgitating, he tearfully opted to stay faithful to the mushy banana.
Blond ringlets forming at the base of his neck and behind his ears, I study my son as he sleeps peacefully at night. Usually the side of his face squashes his voluptuous lips, allowing them to part just so a hint of baby teeth are visible.
Recently, we found him sifting through the overturned garbage, shoving discarded contents into his mouth. Before that, he managed to swipe some coal from the fireplace. Even though this stage means that it’s important to watch him with extra vigilance, I love seeing what he’ll get into next. Indeed, Jude’s mental “door of perception” is wide open, absorbing the world around him with wonder and awe.
Because I had to work, Matt brought Jude to New York for Thanksgiving. In all honesty, you don’t realize how draining a baby can be until they’re gone! For a day and a half I soaked in a tub and read a book cover to cover, something I haven’t done since pre-pregnancy days. Then, I treated myself to two movies. Afterwards, I perused Powells bookstore until it was late at night, without caring to keep track of the time. The days felt decadent, but above all, I was ultimately grateful to have a bit of “recharge time”.
Too often, in my opinion, there’s too much pressure put on women to always be with their baby. Even when I meet up with a friend for the occasional drink or even more occasional dinner sans Jude, I experience a great deal of guilt. A nagging internal voice chastises me for missing out on Jude, particularly because I’m at work full-time. However, for the past four days even though I missed him, I knew he was well-loved and probably getting spoiled rotten by his adoring fan-club extended family in New York.
One of the more sobering parts to Jude developing is the realization that he’s going to get hurt and that I can’t always protect him 100%. For instance, one night he was toddling about and tripped on his sweatpants. A moment later, blood gushed from a slit on the top of his mouth after his face connected with an exposed corner of a chair. Short of destroying all pointy furniture and living in a giant bubble, it’s inevitable such things will happen.
As a mother is it painful to witness your offspring hurt- be it nearly 11 months or 11 years old or 111. Now, I have insight to the plight of mothers who wring their hands watching their children go face-first down slides, or the first time driving without an adult or going off to college. The mothers who watch their children go off to fight in the military- I cannot imagine their anguish, but my heart goes out to them. The more independent Jude becomes, the less control I will exert over him.
Jude, if you read this as an adult, I hope that as your mother I have provided you with the necessary tools to allow you to make own decisions and live up to choices responsibly even when you have made a mistake.
I will always be here to support you- I already know that I’ll be your biggest fan in whatever you pursue in life- but I don’t want to make decisions for you or pick up the pieces when you make a poor choice.
Similar to the Chinese proverb, “Give a man fish and feed him for a day but teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime,” I hope I can teach you that I’ll support you through thick and thin but that I have to let you sometimes learn the hard way: by making mistakes and learning through consequences.
If I bundled you up and never put you on the ground, it’s true you’d never fall. But it’s also true that you’d never learn to walk.