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Saturday, January 18, 2014

My Son, the One Year Old

I can't believe I'm even typing that.  I have a son.  And he is one year old.

I have a son.  And he is one year old.

My sweet Charles is my long-awaited blessing, and even now, a year into his "outside" life and 20 months into me knowing of his existence, I sometimes have to remind myself that this is my life.  He is my son.  I am his mother.  I will always be his mother.

This year... This year has been so, so hard.  I have cried.  A lot.  I have felt guilty.  A lot.  I have felt inadequate.  All the time.  I have second-guessed God for thinking I was capable of handling motherhood more often than I'd like to admit.

But here we are on the other side of it.  This best year of my life.

Charles is the joy of our lives, the joy of our marriage.  I miss him when he naps too long (while in the same breath being thankful for the extra moments of rest or of productivity).  I can count on one hand the number of times we haven't been in the same building.  He has changed me, challenged me.  I love him fiercely, and he's beginning to show just how much he loves me back.  Truly, my cup runneth over.

I haven't been the mother I thought I'd be.  I haven't eaten perfectly.  I haven't used all my time wisely.  I haven't been as patient as I was sure I would be.  I've been selfish quite often, mostly with my time (and mostly with my sleep time).  But I have loved my child more than I knew I was capable.  I am growing less selfish each day.  I am learning more about nutrition all the time and, more importantly, finally starting to stick with my healthy eating plans more and more.  I am sincerely trying to eliminate distractions and simplify my expectations of productivity so I can focus more on relationships.  The patience thing... I'm still working on.  ;)

Just as I have grown into motherhood, Charles has grown from an infant to a little boy in one short year.  He's gone from only needing and taking to also loving and giving.  We have grown together.  It has been a beautiful thing.

I know now that I will never "arrive" at good motherhood.  I will never be that mom I dreamed of being.  But by God's grace I will always be moving forwards--sometimes more sure of myself than others--and in another year's time, I will be that much closer to the dream, and that much closer to my son.

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