I feel that I am preparing to leave London (we have about three months left) just as I am getting adept at living here. I have, for example, just barely figured out the best way to navigate Liverpool Street station with a buggy - where all the lifts are, where the street exits closest to the buses are, etc. I know all the best places to take James now - his favourite parks, the most kid-friendly museums, the restaurants where the servers don't roll their eyes when he knocks his silverware on the floor for the third time. I have online food shopping down cold. As I was contemplating these things a few days ago, I realised it has been true of many stages of my life - I get good at doing something just as things are drawing to a close and it's time to move on. It is no different with parenting. In the 4+ years that James and I have lived together, it seems that each
time I feel I finally understand how to interact with him, he enters a different stage of development, and I have to learn everything afresh. The tactics that worked so well (okay, worked sometimes) yesterday are rendered obsolete by the swift and unrelenting passage of time. James is a drastically different person than he was six months ago, and by
extension, I am a different mother than I was then.
One of the ways I've changed my strategy is to let go of the outcome of my labours, or acknowledge that I never had true control over it in the first place. James is not a puppy I am housebreaking, but a human being for whom I have stewardship. Not all his successes will be attributable to my efforts, nor will his mistakes be laid at my feet. This is both comforting and bewildering. It would be simpler to have a straightforward cause-and-effect sort of evaluation system for my work; in its place there is intuition and hope that your best will be good enough.
I guess the point is not to be a perfect mother, or even a great mother, from the get-go, though. I did not expect James to be comfortable and capable with his mortal experience from day one; I should not expect myself to be so in my experience as his guardian. It is difficult, though, for someone with my obsessive personality and my desire to do everything "right" to fully embrace the idea that the process of becoming, the journey, is the objective. James and I are teaching each other how to be children of God and to do His will. And while that journey isn't easy, I appreciate the company.
I know that I'm not the first person to articulate these concepts, but I thought at least many of my readers would be able to relate. It is a thrilling adventure, being a mother. I'm always adjusting, recalibrating, discovering new ways to communicate, discipline, and teach. And new ways to learn. Maybe by the time they move out of the house, I'll feel sure-footed and confident. Maybe.
