This week I bought my first baby furniture/equipment something or other. My new prized possession? A table top changing station found at a garage sale for $10. It is in need of a bit of a face lift and like my knee, desperately in need of a joint replacement or at least tuned up.
When I found this precious little table ,waiting to be transformed from wood color to white (thanks to my mother…though she remains unaware of her project), instantly I decided the perfect home for it was on top of the chest of drawers I picked up this spring for $80 at Habitat for Humanity’s refurbished store. Yes, the chest needs a face lift as well, but that project remains in a holding pattern for another day.
This little changing table made me recognize how many things I am unable to currently do for my future child. Similar to my not knowing how to fix the corner of this little changing table there will be many situations I will be at a loss on how to handle, but those struggles will be much harder when it comes to wiping her tears. How will I know the first time she gets sick if her ear aches or a tummy hurts and how to soothe them? How do I soothe my own tears when my heart hurts from seeing pain in her eyes? How will explain family members who choose not to participate in her life for one selfish reason or another? Mommy, why are you not married (ok, I am holding out that God plans to change the current relationship dynamics in my life)?
My mother says “the best mother is the childless mother”. My security in my mothering skills is strong, but only when it comes to changing diapers, kissing boo-boos and helping with homework. I know that I want to teach my daughter how to respect her body, have her words and actions to honor to her true value, teach her to give hugs without limitations, but kisses seldom. My “lists” of ways to love my daughter hopefully will include leaving an impression on her heart on how to make her mark on the world. If she impacts the people in her life in the way I know she will impact mine, then my success — immeasurable.
May my mothering actions at least reflect 1% of the love my heart already feels for her.