SIngle Mom's Blog
December 4th 2006 14:46
A baby is better than sex, better than a career, fame and wealth put together, better than anything this world has to offer – that’s according to this humble, single mom’s experience. It is not sacrifice, not drudgery although there’s many a time it will just feel that way.
I never knew I was so fiercely maternal till he was actually born with eyes dark and already aware of not just his mother but distinguishable others and hair thickly massed all over such a fragile little head. I was in tears at his first encounter with the cold bite of a nail-cutter.
To care for an infant that is completely dependent on you for its survival and emotional nurturing; to lay him flat between your breasts under the morning sun and feel the physical burst of joy pulsating from your heart; to watch him grow a little each day in interaction with a world you so carefully built for him, rising somehow to every challenge and overcoming difficulties -- is a daily gift. It’s really being reborn myself, appreciating the world as a child again even as I stare menopause in the eye and just flash it a smile. When he was in the womb I dreamt of God standing on the prow of a ship in a wide expanse of sea and conjuring all manner of creatures from the deep and then He stared directly at me as I watched the dream and said “I love you.” With a straight face I declare: my son’s birth allowed me to grasp and share the divine impulse for Creation.
However, I must confess as well that freedom from bringing up the other man-child, ie, the father, is also bliss. I hope this blog is not misunderstood to be some form of man-hating spree. I hold nothing against the biological father and will continue to be good friends with this man till old age finally overtakes us. But in my case, I feel that the ferocity of mother instinct I have no right to expect from anyone else, not even the father. I bore the child, I raise him as best as I know how and I’ll answer to my God for him on judgment day.
And so, I do not deny my child his heredity and consciously cultivate a bond between himself and his absentee father. We get a big kick out of identifying each body part as being mom’s or dad’s contribution. I am careful not to alienate the boy from his father in any way and exert efforts to make the child understand that absence, although painful, is not equivalent to a lack of love or caring for him by his father. It is just one difficult circumstance in a life that is otherwise joyful. When the time comes that he must know and be with his father, I hope to share that event with him as well.
The boy seems to understand as long as his mother’s love and attention are always forthcoming. I guess, he understands because of the love he first learned from his own mother. He merely equates the same with other people’s love and assumes it is the same quality according to the testimony his mother offers about it. He sings while he takes a bath and is a marvel at entertaining himself with the depth of imagination that an only child develops an aptitude for.
Self-esteem is built this way despite being an only child in a single-parent family. I observe this confidence in the way my child makes and keeps friends and with the way he asserts his own pleasing personality in the face of bullies or vexatious children or even his own mother pestering him with daily 20 minute modules to read and write in a hundred easy lessons. At first pre-school day he showed no separation anxiety but only a sense of adventure.
For these reasons I highly recommend parenting to everyone with only one caveat: put love well in advance and well in priority over discipline. Listen to your child, he teaches you more about life and love than you think you already know. You’ll get a million hugs in return and you might even get a six year old losing sleep over your night out with the girls in such touching adult-like concern. If you’re as lucky.
So come home early and embrace each moment. It goes by so fast and before you know it another heartrending shoe size is due. No amount of scrap-booking or video coverage is giving it back. Blog On, Mamas!!!
Your text goes here
I never knew I was so fiercely maternal till he was actually born with eyes dark and already aware of not just his mother but distinguishable others and hair thickly massed all over such a fragile little head. I was in tears at his first encounter with the cold bite of a nail-cutter.
To care for an infant that is completely dependent on you for its survival and emotional nurturing; to lay him flat between your breasts under the morning sun and feel the physical burst of joy pulsating from your heart; to watch him grow a little each day in interaction with a world you so carefully built for him, rising somehow to every challenge and overcoming difficulties -- is a daily gift. It’s really being reborn myself, appreciating the world as a child again even as I stare menopause in the eye and just flash it a smile. When he was in the womb I dreamt of God standing on the prow of a ship in a wide expanse of sea and conjuring all manner of creatures from the deep and then He stared directly at me as I watched the dream and said “I love you.” With a straight face I declare: my son’s birth allowed me to grasp and share the divine impulse for Creation.
However, I must confess as well that freedom from bringing up the other man-child, ie, the father, is also bliss. I hope this blog is not misunderstood to be some form of man-hating spree. I hold nothing against the biological father and will continue to be good friends with this man till old age finally overtakes us. But in my case, I feel that the ferocity of mother instinct I have no right to expect from anyone else, not even the father. I bore the child, I raise him as best as I know how and I’ll answer to my God for him on judgment day.
And so, I do not deny my child his heredity and consciously cultivate a bond between himself and his absentee father. We get a big kick out of identifying each body part as being mom’s or dad’s contribution. I am careful not to alienate the boy from his father in any way and exert efforts to make the child understand that absence, although painful, is not equivalent to a lack of love or caring for him by his father. It is just one difficult circumstance in a life that is otherwise joyful. When the time comes that he must know and be with his father, I hope to share that event with him as well.
The boy seems to understand as long as his mother’s love and attention are always forthcoming. I guess, he understands because of the love he first learned from his own mother. He merely equates the same with other people’s love and assumes it is the same quality according to the testimony his mother offers about it. He sings while he takes a bath and is a marvel at entertaining himself with the depth of imagination that an only child develops an aptitude for.
Self-esteem is built this way despite being an only child in a single-parent family. I observe this confidence in the way my child makes and keeps friends and with the way he asserts his own pleasing personality in the face of bullies or vexatious children or even his own mother pestering him with daily 20 minute modules to read and write in a hundred easy lessons. At first pre-school day he showed no separation anxiety but only a sense of adventure.
For these reasons I highly recommend parenting to everyone with only one caveat: put love well in advance and well in priority over discipline. Listen to your child, he teaches you more about life and love than you think you already know. You’ll get a million hugs in return and you might even get a six year old losing sleep over your night out with the girls in such touching adult-like concern. If you’re as lucky.
So come home early and embrace each moment. It goes by so fast and before you know it another heartrending shoe size is due. No amount of scrap-booking or video coverage is giving it back. Blog On, Mamas!!!
Your text goes here
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