I read Winnie Thuku’s blog now and then. Honestly, sometimes I just do a quick scan and draw some encouragement. She’s an excellent writer, and great encourager, but often I’m a lazy reader – so I scan. But this post I’m re-posting today had me hooked. It’s a hilarious reflection of a first-time mom. So true. Read on.
There was a time I had this notion that I was a ‘superwoman.’ Like most women who have no kids I thought I had it all together, good education, good job, moving up the corporate ladder, knowing what a woman needs to know and no one could stop me.
And then baby happened!
Baby happened and I fell right on my face when I realized I didn’t even know which side of the diaper was the back and which was the front. Baby happened and I was brought to my knees by the realization that I didn’t even know how to calm a tiny little baby. That is when you start wishing they had taught you how to rock a baby to sleep within thirty minutes instead of teaching you how to dissect a frog.
Just one glance at your baby and you know you need God BIG TIME – like ‘God-I-need-you-to-help-me-not-kill-my-baby-with-my-inexperience’ big time. Calculus, statistics, company law, organizational communication & marketing principles all become so irrelevant the minute the nurses hand over that baby to you and they tell you to breastfeed him for the first time…as they watch. They watch you make all the blunders that new moms make.
During the day you chat happily with your Facebook friends, upload angelic photos of your baby, but deep inside only you know about the sleepless nights. During the night he cries and you cry. You cry because you feel like a zombie, a living dead. The following day you share on Facebook about how great God is but night falls and you start screaming His name like he has taken a trip to Mars…because you can’t see Him near you.
I seem to have lost me the minute I signed in to this motherhood club. From the time this boy was being woven in my womb, he gave the ‘it is no longer I that lives but him who lives in me’ a totally new meaning. He dictated when, how and what I ate, when and how I slept, what and how I dressed. He taught me how to die to self. Simply, he called the shots.
He still continues to call the shots in most ways. Since he has decided he will stop breastfeeding when he goes to high school, I am forced to wear breastfeeding tops despite the fact that I want to look classy in my nice dresses once in a while. My face sometimes has ringworm like patches because the doc says ‘you cannot de-worm yourself if you are still breastfeeding.’
Breastfeeding domes aside, the discovery that this tiny little baby is the one teaching me more about God instead of I being the one doing it is somehow surprising. For crying out loud I am the one with tharte-kindu years life experience, not him! Amazingly, motherhood has taught me truths about God that are just so deep.
There have been several times that I have been tempted to slap my little boy straight into fourth grade; like when he refuses to sleep in his own bed then spends most of the night poking at my eyes and trying to open my eyelids. Do I still love him even when he interrupts my sleep? YES!
He also has this very annoying habit of waking up in the middle of the night & insisting we open the curtains for him so that he can see the cars…failure to which he screams at the top of his voice.
‘Israel, it’s night time. All the cars are sleeping.’
‘Israel, even the dogs are sleeping.’
‘Mom, dogm!’ (then breaks into loud screams & mum has no option but to wake up and look out the window; stare at invisible village dogs & listening to them as they bark as if in a completion.)
‘Mom’ (pointing at my chest)
I give him the bottle, and then again…
I have also discovered he loves eating bugs when I am not looking. Do I love him when he eats bugs? YES. In fact I love him more because the next time the doctor asks me if he has been taking animal proteins, I will happily nod, like a very good mother.
Of late, he has even decided to stop calling me ‘mum’ so he calls me ‘you’. Do I love him? YES, even when I feel like giving him a high five on his litu face.
What I am basically trying to tell us is that the same way I do not require my son to be perfect is the same way God does not expect us to be perfect. I know that my son is growing and developing, learning the Dos & Donts of life, but whatever he does, whether good or bad, it doesn’t change my love for him.
I enjoy every minute spent with him, every stage of his development. It is so with God. He knows that we are in pursuit of maturity in Him, but even before we reach that point where we can say we are now mature, we still know that He loves us still. In our shortcomings, He knows that we are capable of being better children, so He encourages us on.
Several months into motherhood, I know that I am not superwoman, but I know that God still loves me the same. I know that there are many many things that I do not know and do not understand, but the one thing that I know that I know that I know that I know is His love for me. It is unconditional; not determined by my good deeds.
“He certainly knows what we are made of. He bears in mind that we are dust.” Psalm 103:14.
He knows we are human, and we sleep on the job a lot, but He loves us still.
Be sure to visit Winnie’s blog, here.