I was surprised to learn after the birth of my first child that she hadn’t come with a manual of instruction. It seemed only fitting that this should have happened—after all, didn’t I get a manual with the new vacuum cleaner we bought…with the refrigerator…even with the Waterpik for God’s sake! How was it possible that this little detail was overlooked by our Maker? When I first saw my daughter, Amanda, I saw her tiny hands, with fingers spread wide, seeking something, someone. An awesome moment, indeed.
So I did what I imagine every new mother does. I had read all the right books, but now it was up to me. I had to learn to parent “on the fly” per se, sometimes making it up as I went. Nursing was my first dilemma. How in the world were we going to get this to work so that I wasn’t in constant pain? I tried re-positioning from the cradle hold to the football hold. I eventually just persisted, hoping it would get better and it did. And I arrived at the conclusion that the pain went away because of one small detail—Amanda’s mouth had grown! None of the so-called experts had told me that. First dilemma was solved.
Of course I encountered other parenting experiences that were challenging. But I persisted, adding to that imaginary parenting manual in my head that I had been adding to since Amanda was born. Now that Amanda is in college, my imaginary manual, though dense with collected bits of knowledge, it’s far from complete. I had to update my parenting manual frequently to include startlingly accurate advice from relatives and friends who were further along in their “manual.” I learned that I did not know it all and have truly benefited from others who have “done it” before.
The sagest piece of advice I have received is to forget about the small stuff; your kids grow up in front of you. Who cares about that dusty table? Hasn’t it become a great writing slate for small fingers? I have also come to learn, now that my daughter is an oh-so-wise college Junior, that I will still worry about her. In fact, the worry doesn’t decrease at all—it has just changed. The mistakes Amanda may make will now be potential “big” ones. No more worries about not learning math facts quickly enough, or that Whole Language has wrecked her spelling. Now, I have to worry that she may fall in love with someone—will he be kind? Will he be a bum?
I just continue to annotate the manual. It has become large, cumbersome and the rock that grounds me. I do not think I would have ever truly appreciated the gift of being alive had I not become a mother earlier than I had planned. I have worked hard, through blood, sweat and tears to update my parenting manual. I have learned to be proud of this achievement, knowing that I learned along the way to be a good, and sometimes, great mother.
You know what? It doesn’t matter at what stage of life your children are, you’ll still worry. You’re right that your worries change, but the cares and concerns are no less intense………….even when you get to be a senior citizen like me with an (dare I say it?) almost middle-aged child.
From the first time you look at those tiny fingers until they become arthritic, they still belong to your baby.
And for me, it’s just as wonderful looking at the “older” fingers as it was seeing the “new” ones for the first time. That part never changes. There’s a very physical connection there that, no matter what, can’t be severed.
I still get pleasure from “secretly” watching my very grown-up daughter walking her dog in the park across the street from her house. Nobody knows I’m watching, not even her, so that momentary joy is mine alone to keep and not have to share with anybody.
I’m getting “sappy”. My point is that you keep on worrying about your children forever…………….just like you keep on loving them forever.