Diving In

It's powerful to think that I am everything to somebody.

That is what I am to my son, who is one going on eternity.

I am mother, protector, provider; I feed him, dress him, bathe him; I know that his favorite song is "John the Rabbit" and that he likes to dance to the opening of The Big Bang Theory sitcom; that his favorite book is Goodnight Moon and that he doesn't like to wear hats but loves wearing my glasses; that it is my responsibility to affirm, enlighten, educate, and instill in him a sense of conscience.

("Scoot," about 11 mos.)

I'll have to do all these things as well as drive my husband to and from work, look desperately for ways to bring in money, tend to my hygiene, and try to keep up with the laundry.

Oh, and sleep?  For!  Get!  It!

Among my recurrent worries are:

• is he developing healthy eating habits?
• how do I nip bad behavior in the bud; I mean, is it like training a dog?
• will I be able to provide for him without abandoning him to be raised by my mother?
• do I spend enough time with him?
• will my own insecurities and weaknesses give him a complex?
• did I remember to put on his sunscreen?

I guess there is no concrete answer to any of these questions.

Except for the sunscreen.  The "truth is out there" regarding the sunscreen.

This is me diving into my vocation, with all my heart, and taking you along for the journey.  Parenting is one of those things that you can only learn by doing, like driving a car or learning how to swim.  No how-to manuals or simulations can adequately prepare someone for the inspiring and knee-trembling task of forming and fostering a tiny human soul.

I hope that when I am wringing my hands with worry, neglecting to savor the fleeting moments, or wondering what to make for dinner, this blog--and you, the reader--will keep me grounded.

Take a deep breath.  It's going to be okay.

Because I am also everything to Someone else.  God.  And that is a very comforting thought.