I really look forward to when RB is a little older. I feel so much mom-guilt for saying that out loud, let alone feeling that way. Newborn life is late nights, bottles, diapers, worrying, trying to figure out what the actual hell is going on, and then trying to find a way to exist as a whole person in the midst of all that.
Before RB was on this side of the womb, I really wanted to envision what he'd be like when he was a little boy. I wanted to think about what he'd look like, what he'd do for fun, and what his little personality would be like. Would he have a personality like his mom? Or would he be more like his dad? I wanted to, but I was too scared to. I mean, Beau and I would talk about it, but in quiet moments myself, I couldn't let my mind wander there. You see, I've always had this thing where anything I try to envision, it never works out the way I think it will. I hear all this "manifest your destiny" bullshit. That has never worked for me. Almost the opposite actually. If I try to envision how something will go or turn out, it almost always goes horribly, horribly awry.
That's the reason I never (literally, never) planned anything about my wedding until I was actually engaged. I knew two things for sure: I would wear my mom's dress, and I would wear a ring my late grandfather bought as my wedding ring. Then when I met Beau, I knew three things: those two things, and then who my groom would be. That's it, though. I never thought about colors, cakes, bridesmaids, picture poses, decorations, wedding showers - I actively tried to not think about it for fear that if I did, it would all blow up in my face. When it came to planning our wedding, people were very surprised that I, as a woman, had no preferences or some plan I'd been crafting since my childhood.
It probably stems from a serious fear of disappointment, but honestly, whatever, let's not dive into my psyche right now. I'm just saying I was not born with the ability to manifest. I was scared to think too much about RB's future before he was born for fear that if I thought about it, even the chance of it might be taken from us.
Then he was born. And a whole lot of weight I didn't realize I'd been carrying lifted off my soul. Now that he's here and he's real and I can hold him and watch him grow, I'm suddenly much more comfortable and confident in looking through that looking glass. On the late nights when he's having trouble sleeping because he got Mommy's allergies (sorry, bud, I hope you get something cool from me too), and he's laying on my chest, and we're both dozing off, I think about where he'll be in a few years. I think about how in the not too far off future, he'll be coming into our room at night, maybe saying he saw a monster (or saying he slayed a monster - he is Beau's kid too after all!). We'll hear his little feet running, and he'll be giggling with Happy. We'll pick him up in the evenings and he'll tell us about his day. He'll tell us he loves us and give us sweet little hugs. I even look forward to arguing with him when he's a teen and he's missed curfew and I have to be *that* mom (which I totally will). When he's going to hang out with his friends and he's asking me for money again, or when he's driving me crazy asking me 1,000 questions as little kids do - I really do look forward to it all.
These are the things that I really hold tight to my heart. These days are long, but I'm not losing sight of what's so close to us now. I know these moments are precious, and being a parent is the hardest job out there, so I don't expect it to get easier. I guess I just look forward to it getting sweeter and sweeter.
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