Mother's Day

In honor of Mother's Day (belated because I was having too much fun with my daughter, mother, and Grandmama), a post I wrote as part of a guest blogging event. The one they actually selected will go up later this week, and I will post a link.

For now, this one:

Babysitting doesn't prepare you for motherhood.

I've heard that about a thousand times before. Every time someone would ask me over my swollen belly, was I nervous? I'd smile that zen, pregnant smile and say, "no."

Between a full babysitting career and a few years of high school teaching, I'd done it before. I had changed diapers, kissed boo boos, and served up dinners in bite-sized pieces. I had weathered public tantrums and broken up fights. I had taught children to draw, to make music, and to swim. I had taught teens about everything from relativity to sex. I had held out fingers for pudgy little hands while pudgy little legs made their very tenuous early steps. I had helped to potty train a half a dozen two-year-olds and two four-year-olds (one stubborn, the other autistic and non-verbal). I had comforted a 15-year-old boy who was so sick he soiled his pants. I had chased hellions with my last oz of energy. I had felt the frustration of the terrible twos (or threes, or fours), the tenderness of a tiny two-month-old, the hilarity of talkative four-year-olds, and the enthusiasm of fired-up teenagers.

Babysitting did prepare me for motherhood in many, many ways. It's great practice, and a wonderful introduction to different parenting styles. Babysitting prepared me for setting clear boundaries, respecting schedules, offering consistency, being patient and gentle, and trusting in the capability and resilience of children. Babysitting taught me to be a rational mother.

But babysitting did not teach me everything. Most importantly, babysitting did not prepare me for bonding. None of the children I ever worked with was so completely an extension of myself -- so completely my own. I used to ask my own mother,

"What if I don't love my baby enough? What if she drives me nuts?" My mom would smile and reassure me,

"You'll love her."

I am lucky that she was right. Loving Elsie is effortless and automatic. It is such a very special thing to be so close to someone so dear, to snuggle her tight, to nurse her, skin-on-skin, to make her laugh, to feel her grow heavy as she falls asleep in my arms. To watch every step she takes with delight. Nothing prepared me for that. It was the very best kind of surprise!

Another thing my mom always says is this, "Being a mother taught me just how much my mother loves ME!" She's a wise woman! Motherhood gave me an idea of just how much love there must be in the world! <3