Mom as a Place

My girls have my sweet husband wrapped around their little fingers, and it’s Mae who has been, as of late, taking advantage of that position the most.

She is 2.5, and she still insists that he rocks her at least for awhile every night.  Truth be told, I think he enjoys it as much as she does.

The problem occurs, however, when he is not home.  She then thinks that mom will do the same thing.  Now I’m not one to let them cry it out.  If she cries, I will go in there, but usually she will only get one brief rock out of me.  After that, I’ll go in and talk to her, but she knows she has to lay back down.

Tonight, during her brief rock, I was a tiny bit exhausted.  It’s been our first week of school, and everyone’s nap schedule is off which means everyone is throwing fits and just generally having a rough time.  And this all leads to me having a rough time.

So I was up there, and I was thinking how it must be to be a toddler… to have no real idea that other people have feelings.  To have no clue that all your mom really wants to do is sit down on the couch, cuddle under her blanket, and play Subway Surf on her phone for the fiftieth time this evening.

But then I started to think — at moments like these, what is mom to her?  What am I to her?

And it made me think back to the earliest days.  During the earliest days (the book Angel in the Waters does a great job explaining this,) mom is a place, a warm nesting place to gestate.  But then the baby is born, and I think in many ways, we still remain a place.

When a newborn cuddles, they love our touch and our smell and the sound of our heart beats.  But even as they age, how much of a school kid’s need for a hug is about the person of mom and how much of it is just the arms that they want to be in?

And then even as they age.  Teenagers might like going out and being with their friends, but they come home, and at least from what I remember, that home is the people and the need was to be in proximity to them.

I think that might be the case with a lot of our most intimate relationships, but definitely with the parenting one.

And I’m fine with that.  I’m more than fine with that.

I might spend my days trying to model for them and guide them and encourage them.  But in the end, if what they want most is my presence, I am more than happy to be that as well.

Mothering is an all in sort of endeavor.  We can’t just mother with our minds or our hearts or our hands or our words.  Our kids need all of us.

It’s my pleasure to give it.