Reaching

I read this article the other day...or month...about different types of moms. I can't find it or I would post the link, because as I recall, it was a bit humorous.

But one of the "types" was a little too close for comfort: The Milestone Mom. The mom who obsesses about every little thing their baby does and looks up the Milestone charts and hopes and hopes that her baby is hitting them early.

Ugh.

That was totally me. WAS.

In my defense....I am brand new at this. I am new at everything in my life. I remember the good old days when I felt in control, and like I mostly knew what was going on. Mostly. And, you know, not having major consequences if I had no idea what was going on.

But now I'm married. And I have a big-girl job, with benefits and retirement and all, and I am also a mom. These are all relatively new developments in my life. And I have no idea what I'm doing, or at least, I usually feel that way. Not at work. Only sometimes at work. Only sometimes when I find myself saying things like, "If you don't know how to swallow the water, you will not be allowed to get a drink." or "Whoa, okay! Everybody's hands on top of the table! Here, let's use some hand sanitizer before we get started." or "No, honey, I know you feel hot but you have to leave your shirt on at school." And the multitude of other things that come out of my mouth that I never thought anyone would ever have cause to say. (Those are all true, by the way. Cross my heart.)

Anyway, I'm new at this. I don't know what to do. But if my kid is hitting her milestones, I feel like I must be doing something right! So I was obsessed. Totally. And Isla had been hitting everything about a month earlier than the charts and I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. And I would enthusiastically point it out to anyone who was listening. To the point that my parents felt the need to make fun of me.

But I have come to my senses. I have a beautiful and perfect baby and I love her insane amounts and pretty much everything she does is perfect and wonderful. And...babies do what they want when they want to. If she doesn't hit every milestone exactly on time, no big deal. It's a much more stress-free way of parenting. We talk to her, we play with her, we hold her and touch her and love her and make sure she doesn't go hungry or have wet diapers for too long. We bathe her and brush her hair and read books to her. I don't care who looks at me funny at the store when I am talking to my child about which bag of grapes to buy. I am doing the best I can. And she is doing the best she can. So I give  up on milestones, or at least I give up on obsessing over them.

On Thursday this past week, I noticed her arms kind of appeared to be...reaching. I thought it was a fluke and went on with life. But it seemed to keep happening. I was sure it was my imagination. I hadn't even read about when babies start reaching. It's not even on the charts. I guess it's not a milestone, but it's a pretty big deal.

On Saturday night, I was getting Isla's things together to rub some lotion on, put pjs on, etc. Ty was holding her while I got everything ready.

He was a little too far away from me, and I reached for her. She babbled at me...
and then...
reached.

Outstretched her little chunky arms to me.

I took her and Ty and I looked at each other in amazement. We had both seen it. It had to be true, now. I didn't have to doubt it. I will never forget that moment, that look, that feeling. Kind of like when we saw her for the first time, when the doctor handed her to me and we just stared at each other. Except a really amazing kind of stare.

And...it was the best feeling. I loved every little millisecond. There is basically nothing better than having the tiny little human you carried around in your belly for months on end, then...you know...went through that whole ordeal of birthing...and then worried about and loved them freakishly more than you ever thought you could love and worry about something....this sentence is way too long...basically, that little beautiful human I made (with Ty's help, of course) reaching for me? Best. Feeling. Of. My. Life.

She does it all the time now.

Babies are such miraculous little things. I mean, when they are teensy, you just love them and hold them and pray they sleep for at least three hour stretches so you can catch up on your sleep. Then you blink, and they are lifting their little heads and smiling and laughing and everytime you go to the grocery store the old ladies maul your cart...at least they do in this little town, and I am ok with that...and then all of a sudden she is REACHING for you. To hold her. Because she knows she is safe with you. And you will love her. And keep her warm and safe.

And it is amazing.

Have I said it enough yet? Isla reaches for us when she wants to be held.
It's incredible.

There. I think I've said it enough.