Staring Back At Me
This parenting thing is very fleeting.
“Kids are like a mirror, what they see and hear they do. Be a good reflection for them.”
One moment, you’re in a hospital bed screaming to the heavens something about never wanting do this ever again. Shortly after that moment, you’re agonizing over, yet, another sleepless night; cradling a hungry newborn in your arms, hoping, wishing, praying that he will fall asleep right after the 2am feeding. Before you know it, the innocent baby that you just gave birth to is smiling back at you with nothing but gums. And then the time comes when his two little teeth emerge from his gums and you’re gathering around him, accompanied by your loved ones to sing happy birthday to the kid whom you thought you just gave birth to.
All of these and many other surreal moments leave me to question my reality.
How did we get here?
Am I really this kid’s mom?
This an almost out of body experience as I watch this little being be. Much of his being is observing the world around him and emulating. I am the spectator in his little world. This spectating is really spent staring back at myself in this miniature mirror. I, sometimes, have to wash the residue off because I can’t see me clearly. Let me explain…
“Shorry!” The utterance of a teeny voice can be heard as his little fingers hold onto my leg while his small frame attempts to squeeze past me. I chuckle to myself and wonder “…who taught him that?”
Although it takes some time for me to acknowledge that it is me who indirectly taught him that, I’m ultimately proud of who he is evolving into. As time progresses, my perception of who I am and how that is reflected in him is inconsistently skewed. I realize this the first time that I witness him grab hold of the black car charger and yell “BANG BANG!’ My eyes widen and a perplexed look emerges across my face. I want to shout “NO!” Instead, I observe a bit longer. I KNOW that this isn’t something that I have ever modeled so I hope that he is actually doing something else. My hope quickly fades when he does it again, only this time, his tone is more serious and the “gun” is, now, aimed at my gut. My disbelief moves me to laugh… I mean one of those gut wrenching uncontrollable laughs. When he looks up at me, I wipe the smile off as I do not want him to get the wrong impression. I’m certain this is a reflection of one of ‘his little friends’ and I’m also certain that I don’t like it. But what’s a mom to do?
As the days go by, it’s more of the same; more of me trying to distinguish between what he’s reflecting back to me and what he’s ingested elsewhere. Imaginative play takes on a a life of its own when he suddenly squats over his puzzles. The utter confusion on my face does not phase him as he continues. He suddenly remembers that he forgot to pull his pants down as he forcibly tugs at them. My head tilts to the side before his “phew” clearly indicates that he has just used the bathroom. As he finishes up and pulls his pants back up I recall hours before when I had no choice but to use a public restroom. I demanded that he touch nothing. Relief came as he stood still with his hands plastered to his sides. Little did I know, he was taking it ALL in.
Sometimes he will remix what he is reflecting back. My favorite is the laugh. It is usually cued up by someone’s chuckle. It instantly tags him in and he hunches over as the laughter is too large to contain that small body. His hand flies up in the air and slams back down onto his knee as he screams “ahaha!!” While I know that I rarely laugh like that around him, he throws the mommy seal on when he tops the bellowing laughter off with an “oh God!”
These moments are ones I want to hold onto forever. I can’t wait to recount them to him when he’s older and laugh just as heartily as he does. In the meantime, I will maintain a consciousness of that which I am saying and doing. I want to see nothing short of great reflected back to me.
