I’ve only been a mother for five months.
But I already feel like I’ve changed so much as a person. The lessons I’ve
learned in this short time could fill a book.
I know what you’re thinking. Talk to me
when you potty train, send your kid to school, or he talks back to you. I
haven’t experienced any of those things yet (the last one, I hope I never have
to). And I’m sure when I do, the lessons I learn could fill subsequent books!
Still, each day I experience something new
– the first time my baby smiled, grabbed my finger or rolled over. I’ve battled
sleep deprivation, missed meals, missed showers and zero privacy or “me time.”
Being a mother has taught me how to be
unselfish and put someone else’s needs before my own; laugh when I feel like
crying; and not to sweat the small stuff. The laundry didn’t get done today? A
year ago I wouldn’t have been able to sleep, staying up until it was done. Now
I know that tomorrow is another day, and another chance to tackle that task.
But above all else, being a mother has
taught me patience. And this virtue is one that I can honestly say I’ve lacked
all of my life. I recall as a kid, teenager, and even young adult, my mom would
always warn me to have patience. I’d be in line at the grocery store, begging
my mom to open the chocolate bar we had yet to pay for so I could eat it now.
“Patience,” she’d say. “The chocolate bar isn’t going to disappear.”
As a teen, I would scarf down dinner
because I was in a hurry to meet friends. “Patience,” my mom would say. “Eat
slowly. Your friends can wait.”
And as a young adult, I’d be driving over
the speed limit, in a rush to get to wherever I was going. My mom, in the
passenger seat, would put her hand on my arm and say, “Patience. If you’re
late, it’s not the end of the world.”
I didn’t understand back then why she would
always remind me that my lack of patience would be a huge obstacle for me
later. I know now.
Those days when my baby kept me up all
night, I needed patience the next day so that I could properly care for him.
The times when he spit up all over both of
us, I needed patience as I cleaned us up.
And I also need to be patient as he learns
new things. He can finally roll over with support, but it took him weeks to get
there. He’s now learning how to eat solids. I obviously can’t rush him through
a meal. It takes him time to eat each bite, and I relish each of those tiny
spoonfuls he takes.
As a mother, I appreciate my own mom more
than ever. The challenges she faced and experiences she had are ones that I
couldn’t understand until I went through them on my own. And it heartens me to
say that I’ve finally learned the one thing she was always trying to teach me.
By Suzanne Yar Khan
Suzanne Yar Khan blogs about her adventures
as a mom in her spare time. Visit www.mission-mom.com