Mothering a Boy

This little boy is a the joy of my life.

I know. This is news to you, right?

Sometimes, I start feeling like what I'm doing (with him, being his mom and all of that) doesn't matter because he won't remember. Of course, I can feel that way if I choose, but those thoughts aren't founded in truth, exactly.

What is it about somebody remembering something or not remembering that makes us (maybe not you, but sometimes me) think it is a good gauge for what is worth doing? Nolan will not remember what is going on in his life right now, but he will be loved (albeit imperfectly) during his most formative years. At his core, (I hope) he will know he is loved unconditionally. With that perspective, feelings of worthlessness don't really make sense.

I fill other roles, but

I am Nolan's mother.

There are so many ways to parent. I just keep attempting to learn. Keep thinking and paying attention, keep talking and listening.

Today, I was caretaker to one of Nolan's birthday buddies (we have two sets of friends who each had a son the same day Nolan was born) in addition to my usual little rascal.

In the beginning, I was breaking up every entanglement (the other boy is significantly smaller than Nolan)...but as I was observing them, I noticed that this is just how they did things. The being on top of one another, the grabbing of a toy, and then grabbing it back. The touching of faces and pulling of hair (although that got a little iffy sometimes).

I watched them, and I played with them, but I stopped intervening on every.single. thing. They didn't need that from me.

Several months ago, I learned that Nolan enjoys most things I would find scary or a little too rough. Most times, he thinks they are hysterical.

Being the mother of a little boy has been quite the learning process for me. I imagine it always will be.