How will they know?

For the last 8 weeks since Houston was born, we have heard the same question many times. A question that no matter how many times I hear it, I still get tongue tied when answering. A question that makes ME question if I am a bad mother. A question that puts me in such a catch-22, I've found myself sometimes dodging it when it is asked and I change the subject. A question that evokes an answer that only a mom can understand and others give a perplexed face because the truth is not culturally accepted.

Kind of like when you ask "how are you", you expect to hear the response "good", "fine", maybe even a "really good"... it is just assumed. And when it doesn't come back as expected... you wonder. Well, many times in the last 8 weeks I have been asked, "So, is he a good baby?" Now the culturally accepted answer would be, "oh yes, he is good", "fine", maybe even a "really good". For those who know me well, they know that I am a terrible liar. Even if I try my hardest to be fake- it doesn't work. I fail miserably. (Houston's face when mommy attempts at lying:)

So do I tell them the truth? But how could I give the honest answer that I know only I will understand? For instance, how will they understand that when I say, "actually he is one TOUGH cookie" in my heart I actually mean "he pouts a lot and it is the cutest pouty lower lip you have EVER seen- it makes my heart soar every time". (I wish I had a picture of it- I will try to capture it for a future post).

How will they understand that when I say, "actually, the doctor says he is a screamer" in my heart I actually mean "he is a strong spirit that knows what he wants and I hope he will continue to fight for what he wants all his life."

How will they understand that when I say, "well, the doctor says he has catnap syndrome so no matter HOW tired he is, he doesn't sleep more than 20 minutes during the day" in my heart I actually mean "I love that he doesn't let me work, and he forces me to put my priorities straight so I can watch, play, and snuggle with him all day because he knows better than I what I need to be doing at this stage of life".

How will they understand that when I say, "he eats every hour" in my heart I actually mean "he is fighter and is going against every book and every doctor I read while pregnant and saying 'forget you guys- I'm determined to grow big so nobody will ever tell me I'm in the measly 27 percentile EVER AGAIN!' Call it small man's syndrome at a young age if you'd like, but I think it is the cutest thing EVER."

How will they understand that when I say, "well, he's a pooper" in my heart I actually mean "we change him at least 15 times a day and its so great because thaat's usually when he gives us his best smiles".

How will they understand that when I say, "he is sleeping two hours at night" in my heart I actually mean "he wakes me up every two hours at night and I look forward to it- because it means I get to stare at him for an extra 30 minutes instead of just dreaming about him".

How will they understand that when I say, "yeah, I'm pretty tired" in my heart I actually mean "when he wakes me up in the middle of the night for a feeding I find myself in tears looking at a what a beautiful creature Heavenly Father has blessed me with and my mind races all night trying to comprehend that responsibility and pleasure".

How will they understand that no matter what one liner I give in making short conversation, this is the most rewarding and beautiful experience I have had and ever will have. That I think he is perfect in every way and the only fear I have is that I will love him too much to ever give him up to another woman someday when it is time for him to start his own family. It will mean I don't have sole rights on his hugs anymore. That he will have another woman's shoulder to cry on (and wipe his nose on:). That he will wake someone else from their dreams only to let them find that he is better in real life than you can ever dream of.

Thank you Mike and Eileen for giving me your perfect son who I love to wake up next to when he hops up in the middle of the night to hold, rock, and sing to our son. Although I'm sure the teenage years will make it easier, I might come to you in 25 years or so and need some encouragement on how you let me share Michael :)