More Mommy

Recently I was discussing the arrival of Baby #2 with a group of mothers who had already crossed that threshold or were planning to in the future. I began to make the point that, with another on the way and my life soon thrown upside-down, I was taking advantage of my time by doing those things that with two little ones seems impossible. My point being, instead of wasting time watching the Tyra Banks Show, I'd been reading up a storm and doing other assorted two-handed projects which I'm anticipating to prove difficult with a growing family. 

A mother who I know only through brief introduction looked at me and said, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but if I were you I would try to give your oldest a little more time and love before the second comes along." Hhmm. I tried not to take it the wrong way, and at least by outward appearances humbly accepted the advice. Only after I left the conversation and let the dialogue fester a few days did it really start to bother me. 

Love Luke more? Give him more time? I hardly work to give him time. I feed, I cuddle, I rock, I sing, I read, and I play Lego's and dinosaurs all day long for him. I hope and pray everyday that the time I give him will pay off later. I do it all...for him. 

How could I love Luke more? How could any good mother consciously love their own child more? I don't love perfectly, I have failures everyday. I could be more patient, I could cook one less frozen pizza for lunch, I could reserve computer time for only when Luke is sleeping, and a thousand other things I'm both aware and unaware but with prayer hope to improve. But love? If anything, I wonder if a child can be loved too much. Can I hug, kiss and praise him to a fault? 

With the arrival of little Baby #2, it will not only be Mark and I that go through a transition, but Luke as well. Luke will have daily practice on those lessons I'm trying to teach him now--patience, sharing, gentleness. If anything, my fault with him has been loving him to the point that all of my time is his time. A new baby will teach him that he may have to wait ten minutes for a cup of juice, that my arms aren't only for consoling him, and that he can take his shoes off by himself. Will these little denials of service signify less love? I really don't think so. If anything, these lessons will shape his character and will, and maybe in the process bring out qualities which haven't surfaced yet. 

A little boy, selfish for all of his mother's love, will soon learn that a mother's heart knows no depth too deep.