What I love best is the way she squeezes a blueberry in her fist and flings the mess across the kitchen

Always in the back of my mind I am remembering, somewhere, that my mother had five children under the age of five. My youngest sister was born about three weeks before my fifth birthday. In case you're having trouble picturing it, that's a four-year-old, a three-year-old, a two-year-old, a one-year-old, and a NEWBORN, all at once. 

And it's true, my memory of that time isn't exactly good (or existent) and even if I did remember it would all be from a child's perspective and therefore useless to me now. Still, my mom is incredibly able, terrifically creative, with heaps of ingenuity and an ability to let things go that I didn't seem to inherit. And always, in the back of my mind, I know that I compare what I do now to what my mom did then and so often I find myself lacking. I only have three! And there are just so many things that I can't seem to get done. (That's totally unfair to my mom, by the way, who is my biggest supporter parenting-wise and never makes me feel like I'm doing a poor job. This is ALL me.)

It's Emma's birthday today. It's been a whole year of the unsleepingest yet happiest baby ever, and a whole year of feeling monumentally incapable. She even woke up in the night, about 12:15 which is almost exactly when my water broke a year ago. I couldn't go back to sleep, just laid there thinking about what that was like, what happened, how it felt, what I was thinking, how I had absolutely no idea what would happen in the following three hours. That's when it started: I couldn't even give birth right. 

As the world has shifted a bit this month, with the start of school and this rigid schedule, I've been thinking about the last year and what I've learned, even how I've maybe changed, and it seems to be the year where God asked, "What would it be like if you couldn't do it all?"

I mentioned this to a friend tonight and she snorted - the last time she saw me I had a baby on my hip, I was making scones and homemade bread, setting the table for Molly's birthday party, and fixing the big kids' lunch at the same time. She doesn't have any kids and I know, to her, I look like SuperMom. And you know, sometimes I am. But I know I'm not SuperMom, I'm just the sort of person who is determined to do all the things I want to do. I'm just going to find a way. I will build the Blathering website during the month that Emma wakes up every hour, every night. I will throw a Christmas party in the middle of my most anxious season. I will lose 35 pounds before my 30th birthday. I will arrange every moving detail, and pack our entire house by myself, while pregnant and solo parenting. 

And this year feels like the year I [slowly] said to myself, "Well... actually maybe you shouldn't try to run every day." Maybe I shouldn't have another party right now. Maybe I shouldn't join that group. Maybe it's okay not to write on my website every day. Maybe I don't have to make a spectacular cake for EJ's birthday party. Maybe I can just give those jeans away instead of hating myself for not fitting into them. Maybe it's okay to take naps. 

So say God asked me that question months and months ago. For the longest time I've ignored it. I've denied it. I've fought it, big time, kicking and screaming the entire way. Until... now? Maybe a few weeks ago? Maybe when I started driving everyone to school? There's a way where I realized that this schedule is the new normal, and no we're not used to it yet, but I already see how limiting it is and how it divides my day into often inconvenient chunks. I already know that I can do just one thing on preschool days, maybe two things on no preschool days. 

It feels like God is questioning this thing about myself that I don't want to let go of. Like he's questioning something so me that it's my identity. Being responsible, reliable, dependable, determined, committed, capable - all good stuff. What's wrong with being those things? I won't give them up. I won't not be those things. 

Except... there is a way that being those things... I don't know. Instead of being someone who can be described with those words, I tell myself I AM those words. That is all of me. That is who I am. If I am not those words I am... no one. 

Will God love me more if I lose all the baby weight? If I make a beautiful birthday cake? If I throw the best Christmas party? If I do two more loads of laundry instead of napping? If I write the best blog posts? 

Emma is an entire year old today, and only now, just now am I beginning to hear what he's really saying. Getting it all done, accomplishing everything, remembering everything, doing all the things I want to be able to do, being a good wife and mother and friend by doing things and doing them well... that's not WHY he loves me. So if I don't get it all done, if I mess it up, if I forget, if I fail, he doesn't love me less.

My sweet adorable birthday baby, she does nothing. Nothing! Some days she won't even deign to feed herself to put her own chunk of pear in her own mouth. She doesn't crawl or cruise or walk, she doesn't speak, she doesn't do any work or produce anything, and the only thing she gives back is her happy face. And yet there is no way I could love her more. I don't need her to be anything except exactly who she is: my beautiful perfect daughter. 

Comments

[lindsay]

Well. This is just superb. I relate to so much of it Maggie. you are doing an awesome job and so is that little one year old of yours, it sounds like.

[PinkieBling]

You both are so stinking cute!

[Doing My Best]

How was that not giving birth right?! You are AWESOME! The baby wasn't born in the car =) (not that there's anything wrong with that if that was your plan ;-) )! YOU DID IT!

For the record, I have given birth *5*, count 'em, *5* times, and the ONLY time I was able to figure out I was in labor was the first time, when my water broke...and even then, I wasn't in any sort of "the baby's arrival is immenent" labor. The 2nd time, I was CONVINCED that the contractions were going to stop at any moment, but when we arrived at the hospital, I was dilated to NINE cm. Even the last time, the FIFTH time I did this, I still didn't believe I was in labor when we left for the hospital, but I was 6cm dilated when we got there (and the baby was born about 4 hours later)! It took me until after my FOURTH baby was born to figure out that the kill-me-now-before-my-body-implodes-into-my-uterus contractions meant that I was in transition and the baby would be coming out soon. So, if not-figuring-out-exactly-how-far-along-in-the-labor-process-you-are amounts to failing at giving birth? I failed MISERABLY!

I once asked a medical professional why it was that I couldn't seem to think clearly or understand the most obvious things AT ALL when I was in labor, and she told me that it's because everything in your body is focused on your uterus, and that doesn't leave much of anything for critical thinking skills =).

[Hillary]

You two have the best smiles.

[HereWeGoAJen]

I honestly cannot believe that it has been a YEAR. (Also, I still feel shell shocked by your labor because holy cow.) Happy birthday, Emma!

[Emily]

Love you and this post, maggie. You are a strong, competent, amazing mom, and you'll see it. It might not be for a while, but I think eventually you'll look back and say DAMN, I WAS GOOD AT THAT. Because you ARE. And you know what they say, hindsight is 20/20. XOXO

[Angela Noelle]

This is beautiful. Happy birthday, Emma!

[Angela (Aferg22)]

I just want to give you a big hug and tell you that you are awesome.

[Susie]

Oh Maggie, you DO write the best blog posts. Happy birthday to Emma, and Monday to you - I hope the shorties and your schedule cut you some slack this week, and you get to nap on the couch :)

[Michelle]

I love this post. Very honest. And happy birthday, Emma!

I've found that the first year of life for both of my girls were my most anxious, where I felt like I had to do EVERYTHING. To prove something, to someone.

As soon as they celebrated that first birthday, I wasn't so anxious anymore.

[Sarah]

I love this post! I have so many of those same thoughts and feelings. Thank you for putting it out there :)

[Carrie]

Great post and great picture!

[Reading (and chickens)]

Oh, I'm so glad you're not Doing It All. Life is much better with a little No in it, in my opinion! Happy birthday to E!

[Tracy]

Happy birthday to Emma! And what a great post for her birthday.

[Elsha]

You're the best, Maggie. I love this post.

And happy birthday to Emma! I can't believe it's already been a year.

[Sonya aka Glam-O-Mommy]

Happy birthday to Emma!

[Christina]

I always hated how everyone was like "oh now that your child is in preschool you'll have so much time!" - because it was exactly the opposite. For the record, you are awesome and you are doing awesomely. But you are also totally right - you don't need to impress God. He loves you no matter what. And thank you for the reminder - I'm pretty sure most of us moms need to hear that daily.

[Dr. Maureen]

This is a fantastic post. And Baby EJ is so cute I can't stand it. She doesn't HAVE to do anything! I love her from here, and I don't even know her! Happy birthday, Emma Jane! (Still one of my all time favorite baby names.)

[Kellilu]

Amen and amen.

[Elizabeth]

You know I love you no matter what too.

[Mike]

I love the babies smile. A smile says a thousand words.