Love that girl

It is nice when I look at N and realize just how crazy I am about her.

When she was an infant I was a little too adoring of her...but I blame a lot of this on anxiety. Only I could do anything for her (feed her, soothe her, etc). If I wasn't involved in an activity or play with her, then it didn't actually count as being worthwhile. My adoration of her was certainly obsessive and bordered on smothering. It helped when she started in on tantrums. Nothing like a childhood fit to make you step back from the adoration to see your child for who they are: human.

I saw mother love as a perfect thing at first, a wholly unrealistic viewpoint, I now realize. Loving N meant never getting angry, frustrated, bored, tired, basically any negative kind of emotion. If I felt anything of that nature, I was instantly overwhelmed with guilt. "Does this mean I don't love her?" I wondered. Mothering her equaled being perfect, a skill I have longed for but never possessed.

So as she has gotten older and I've weathered my fair share of tantrums and fits, I've come to see mother love as what it really is: imperfect, delicate, fierce and unyielding. And sometimes it is all of these things all at once....a strange blend, especially for someone who tends to see the world in black or white. How can a mother's love be so complicated? And yet it is.

Given it's complexities, it is so nice when I just feel the simple adoration of my girl. When I just feel love for her and see her best qualities and find her funny and kind and wonderful.

Sometimes I am amazed by how beautiful a child she is. I think there is something gently striking about N (but I am, of course, totally biased). Sometimes when the 3 of us are together, I ask her daddy, "How did we get such a cute girl?" When she was a baby, I hoped that she would resemble me, but she is so much cuter than I ever was. I am so glad the power that is decided not to listen to my request. I never dreamed I'd have a blond curly-haired, blue-eyed girl.

Tonight D said something about could we imagine not having N, like had she never been born. It occurred to me how hollow I think of our lives prior to N. At the time, we thought we were full up with life, and we were because that is what we knew. It was enough because we knew nothing else. But then N came into the picture, and everything we knew became so much less important or completely unimportant.

I'm sure tomorrow, when it is rainy and I've cleaned the basement and been inside the house all day with N, I will wonder, "Do I even like this kid?," but right now, I am thinking about today's drive home from the park, as I looked in my rearview mirror at my daughter's face and thought, "God, I love that girl."