A Beginning

I really haven’t the slightest idea why I am doing this. I have always meant to keep a journal, maybe this will force me to be more consistent. I really don’t know but so many of my friends are “blogging” that I decided to try it for myself. I have been trying very hard to think of what to write for my first entry and I have yet to be visited by the muse but I am waiting patiently. Surely if I procrastinate long enough something will come to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my son, who just turned three, play dough on a carpet that I just cleaned days ago. It doesn’t bother me though. I learned long ago to pick my battles. Watching the intensity with which he approaches his project, it occurs to me that whatever lesson he is learning at this particular moment is far more important than the inconvenience of a little mess.The days when a can of playdough can interest him this much will soon pass and I would hate for my little scientist to miss out on this lesson.

He catches me watching him and flashes me the same disarming grin that I sometimes get from my husband when he is being particularly naughty. They are so similar it is uncanny sometimes. I love them both passionately. It was not that long a go that this would have seemed impossible to me. I discovered later in life than most that I have this unending capacity for loving others.

When my first daughter was born, the magnitude of my feelings for her completely eclipsed the feelings I had for her father. I thought that this was a natural, maternal instinct. I didn’t see as what it was yet another indication of the horribly flawed relationship I had with my first husband. It was only after my second daughter was born that I began to realize that there was something wrong. I had worried terribly before I had her that by having another baby I would some how be shorting my oldest daughter; that the same transference of emotion would occur when my second child was born. Of course that wasn’t the case and it was shortly thereafter that I decided to end the disaster that was my first marriage.

It seems as though it was a lifetime ago. The new life growing inside me stirs and brings me back to the present. I don’t have those worries about this babe because I know that in all of us there is an endless reservoir of love to tap into. I will embrace the new life I am carrying as completely and totally as I do the beings already inhabiting my world. I will savor every moment with this child the way I do the time I spend with my other children. I intend on savoring every moment of their childhood and when they have grown and gone I know I have long luxurious days spent reveling in my husband’s undivided attention and lavishing him with mine to look forward to.