This afternoon I find myself reflecting on my children. It seems appropriate: I am a mother because of them.
***
First, Mary.
My daughter.
She is complicated, often a mystery. Mary is intensely self-aware, and her heart is very tender. So she has already become adept at building walls to protect her tender soul. Walls of defiance, walls of screaming or silence, of tears or hysterical laughter. Walls of apathy or bossing. Walls of fake giggles and outrageous goofiness. Walls of perfection and accomplishment. Walls of strict obedience or walls of flagrant disobedience. This makes her complex, and these layers of protection leave me baffled. She often hides her true feelings, even from herself. Sometimes I don't know if I am up against one of her walls--or if I am seeing straight into her heart. I am ever losing my footing, lost in the maze of her protective fortress. Unsure if I should simply bash it down--because those walls are part of her too--or help make it stronger.
But Mary is not a complete mystery. I know with certainty that she loves life, that she is eager to learn. She ever strives for more, and she does not settle. She is both tender and strong. I know that Mary is smart. Her mind is bright and sharp. I know that her nature is joyful. And her spirit is wise. I know that Mary is an amazing human being and a beloved daughter of God.
After she was born, I was a mess. But still I found quiet moments alone with her. I would rock her for what seemed like hours and stare into her beautiful, sleeping face. God would speak to my spirit in these peaceful moments, and I knew my daughter was someone special, someone exceptional. What a privilege to be her mother.
She sends my heart soaring, and my soul is not complete without her.
***
Next, David.
My little boy, who is not so little.
He is growing, and he is changing...in unexpected ways. As a toddler and a preschooler, David was a master of coping, of letting things go. His high energy and impulsive behavior often hid the fact that at his core he was an easy-going little guy. But no more. He is sensitive, quick to anger, quick to cry. He ruminates and broods, he blames and whines. I suspect that this is part of his process of growing up, of learning to find his way in the world, of maturing. It's just happening faster than I can keep up with.
With David's deepened sensitivity has come a growing spiritual maturity and a strong desire to do what's right. He has become more consciously aware of God's love for him, and he is eager to learn of God's plan. He is thoughtful, happily declaring at Easter time that Judas is really a good guy, explaining it this way: "Jesus wanted us all to be Resurrected, so He needed to be Resurrected first, so Jesus wanted to die because He had to die, so really he wanted the bad buys to find him, so Judas did a good thing by telling the bad guys where He was. We don't have to say that Judas made a bad choice!" (What do you say to that?) David is eager to see the good in everyone.
David is becoming more aware of good and bad, and he is increasingly concerned about making good choices. He is also realizing that it can be hard to choose the right sometimes. But he does a pretty good job of it. I can see in him such goodness. I am so proud of him.
I am also happy that he still wants to hold my hand in the parking lot. And cuddle with me on the couch.
Just when I thought I had him figured out, he grew up. And I feel like I am starting over, that I am just as lost and overwhelmed as the day we came home from the hospital. But I knew that day I loved him. And today I love him even more. David may have his ups and downs, but my love grows exponentially.
***
When I started this post, I was going to say, "I want to write about the people who made me a mother." But technically it was Greg who made me a mother, if you know what I mean. So I'm going to write about him too, my partner in parenting.
I married a very good man.
A while ago I promised you a story about Greg and the Word of Wisdom. Here it is.
When Greg was but a wee 2nd Lieutenant (read here to see how wee a 2nd Lieutenant is), he was deployed to a super secret location in Jordan. (The super secret part isn't all that pertinent to the story, but it sounds kind of cool.) One afternoon he was invited to a meeting with an important officer in the Jordanian Air Force. Not only was this guy a colonel (if you didn't already, see here), he was also the commander of the base where Greg and his American pals were about to embark on implementing some pretty major plans. The commander, in a gesture of hospitality, offered Greg some tea. Problem. As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we don't drink tea. (Please don't ask me to explain why--just go with it.) Here is the moment of truth. Does Greg politely decline the tea and risk offending the colonel? A man in a position of power, a man who could make Greg's life complicated and miserable? Does he risk offending the commander of the base where the Americans' presence is secret and tenuous but necessary for upcoming missions? Or does Greg politely accept the tea...because, really, what's a few sips of tea? As Greg tells the story, a thousand thoughts were rushing through his mind in that moment. But then he saw clearly. He politely declined the tea, explaining that it was forbidden by his religious code of health. The commander inquired as to what religion, and Greg told him he was Mormon. The commander's face lit up, and he said, "Oh! I know about Mormons! You are much like us. We, too, have a law of health. We, too, try to live modestly. And, like you, family is very important to us. Mormons and Muslims have many similarities." Greg breathed a sigh of relief. He knew he had won the man's respect, and, more importantly, Greg had not compromised his beliefs. The moral of the story is to be true. Be true to your beliefs, whatever they are.
The other moral of the story is that I married a good man.
Not surprisingly, this good man is also a very good father. I would not want to raise children with anyone else.
Here is a picture of that good man of mine, moments after he made the jump from 2nd Lieutenant to 1st Lieutenant. (Who is that lady with him???)
Yup. The father of my children.
I wouldn't want it any other way.
***
Thank you, Greg, for our beautiful children.
And a lovely Mother's Day.
