Mothering

I hope you all had a wonderful Mother's Day. Our day was typical / simple, which was just right. I find that the older I get, the more perspective I have on Mother's Day as something more than an occasion for brunch and cards. I feel profoundly grateful to have the opportunity to mother my own child, and so lucky to have my mother and mother-in-law in my life. Erik and I were raised by strong, loving mothers and I am surrounded by friends who are amazing mothers. If I can take a bit of that and pass it on to Ellen, I will feel successful in this very hard and immensely important job.

I had the "opportunity" to do a lot of mothering yesterday. Ellen was up late, having a marvelous time, at a party on Saturday night and my experience predicted we would pay for it for day(s). She had a mediocre quiet time, but seemed to rally and was cuddling on the couch with me just moments before spitting in my face and wrestling me like Hulk Hogan. She was un-containable, un-consolable, un-happy. I knew she was just plain exhausted and it took every ounce of my being to try to get her to calm down.

She finally - for one of the few times in her life - just said, "I'm so tired!". And, of course, she was far beyond the point of falling asleep on her own and just begged me to help her, help her, help her fall asleep. I laid with her and scratched her back "under" (under her shirt), and scratched her head "not there, all over", and patted her back "like this, harder". She drifted off to sleep probably 8 times, then woke every time I inched out of her bed and pleaded with me again. She finally feel asleep and was an improved version of her 3-year-old self upon waking.

I felt needed, as though it was a job only I could do at that moment, and I strained to see the beauty of the moment through my tired eyes and exasperation. She is increasingly independent, in ways that are wonderful to watch, but it's nice to be reminded that she is my baby, and always will be, no matter how big she gets.