It’s hard to believe that seven years ago I was 38 weeks pregnant waiting anxiously for the arrival of our first child, our son Parker. I remember quite distinctly that it was a priority for his room to be completely set up and ready to go weeks before my due date. Pictures were hung, baby clothes were washed and hanging in an overly organized closet, and the even diapers and wipes had been unpacked and assembled dutifully in preparation for his big arrival.
At the time, my biggest concern was how our dogs were going to take to a newborn being around the house - Would they get along? What if the dogs hated the baby? What if the baby hated the dogs? What if the dogs were barking and the baby was crying all the same time? And what if a combination of all this responsibility made me a crazy person?
Uh oh - was I ready for this?
Then, before I knew it, the day came when we met our sweet little Parker Man. Everything about him was smaller and more adorable than I thought possible. He had the sweetest way of cooing that melted my heart, and the first time he sneezed I thought I might just die of cuteness overload. I was head over heels in love with this little guy and wanted nothing more than to be the mother he deserved.
Throughout the next few months I photographed and videoed as much as possible - if there was a precious moment of his life to be captured on film, I was determined to remember it forever. I also managed to over-obsess about all things baby ... Is he eating enough? Is he eating the right things? Am I holding too much? Is he happy? How can I get him on a nap schedule?
The inner workings of my mind as a young mother were a total minefield, and, in hindsight, I realize that my worrying was a symptom of a grave medical condition: new mom-itis. I’m pleased to report that as Parker got older, I've calmed down and my obsessive worry-filled thought patterns subsided greatly.
With three kids in the picture now, we’re struggling to keep up with the laundry, and if clothes make it to the closet at all, I’m calling that a win. Gone are the days of well-organized closets, because something else is always more important. It’s more important to stop for hugs, help youngsters learn to write their name with pride, ride scooters in the street, color for hours on end, or snuggle in bed on a cold rainy day with a good movie playing in the background of tickle fights.
As we celebrate Parker’s seventh birthday, I will hug him tightly, and remember all of the wonderfulness he’s blessed us with already. He was the first to make me a mom, the first to melt my heart with his little hand, and he’ll be the first to grow up … even if it’s just a little bit.
Jordan Schupbach is a mother of three living in the Fulshear area. She blogs at www.lattesandliving.com - sharing the good, the bad and the frenzied.