In the words of A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”
Let’s talk about the best of times first. Your sweet smile that starts as a twinkle in your eyes. Your belly laugh when I make silly noises by your ear. The way you munch on your toes. The way you roll over from your back to belly in 5 seconds flat.
All in all you are one happy baby and are wonderfully generous with passing back smiles to anyone who gives one to you. I can see you processing the world around you in your rapidly developing mind. And I can’t believe how quickly the days go by with you.
What is always surprising to me is how instantaneously you will change what you like and what you do. One day the play gym was nothing to you, the next day it’s your favorite place to be. One day your kicking around on your back and find your toes, and now you won’t be on your back without them. One day you decide it’s time to become a roly-poly, and you haven’t slowed down for even a second. It’s truly amazing.
Now… the worst of times. It was not you sweet child that was the worst. It was me.
I’ll spare you the vast details, but to sum it up you realized a bottle takes a lot less work than nursing does. Thus the struggle began, but unfortunately for me I didn’t figure that out until many bottles later only compounding the issue.
My ugly tendency for perfectionism came out to ruin my days with you. It changed the way I looked at myself as a mother, and how I looked at you as my baby. It made me angry, anxious, and overwhelmed. It made me believe I could control and change things as if I were God, instead of turning to and believing He was enough. It turned me into someone I truly do not like and wouldn’t want around. Unfortunately for you and for those around me, it took a long time for me to realize enough was enough.
I apologize, my darling girl. I do not want to be that to you, and I most certainly do not want to teach you that part of my personality. You deserve better than to struggle through that battle in your life. Nothing good comes out of striving for perfectionism. Trust me.
So this next month, sweet Isla Rose, let’s change our focus. Let us (me) be grateful for all the wonder and beauty in this life. Amen and amen.
I love you my precious girl.