today

Do you ever get caught up in your life? I mean the day-to-day bustle of life that we all get caught up in from time to time. The errands, the to-do lists, the chores, the planner filled with meetings and papers and appointments that only a person hyped up on an immense amount of caffeine could actually accomplish...all the work that just fills time and takes away energy. The place-filler that consumes our life in the meantime, while we're "waiting" for our dreams to come true.

Today I realized that I have been caught up in life...the business of life, but I haven't actually been living it.

Sure, I'm present to my life. I show up, I smile (part of the time, at least), I participate, I get things done, I have conscious thoughts and emotions. But I'm not really, truly living. At best and at any given time, I'm only partially there. Half the time I'm running on too little sleep and too much coffee. I'm always rushing to complete the next paper, find a second to catch a quick bite to eat, clean up after my family, get all of the errands and appointments out of the way, find time to somehow rediscover the best friend and lover inside of my husband that seems like an alternate life that I once had, be an adequate mommy...one that feeds my son on time, makes sure he is played with enough and knows he is loved, the one who remembers to journal and jot down the important dates and memories. I spend my life running and running and never seeming to get it all done. Dreams become someday. Time seems to slip away from me, as I run and run, anxious to get it all done. To do everything I can to be the perfect woman. Heck, even a mediocre wife and mother would do.

At what point did we all learn to doubt? At what point did humans decide that they would instead chase after what they think they should be doing, rather than living the life they are given. What if? What if there were more hours in a day? Would I get all the things done that I feel are necessary to get done? Or would I only add more on to the list? What am I trying to run away from? What am I desperately trying to avoid??

I watched my son sleep today. Some of my favorite moments are those when my 16 month old falls asleep on me. His face completely at peace, his little chubby fist curled, lying sprawled out beside him. His head a mess of sweaty curls and ringlets. The sound of his heavy, even breathing. It is in those moments that I feel calm and peace. I look at him, and all of those to-do lists and should-haves fall away. I'm no longer worrying about all of those things I normally allow to define me...to consume me.

I'm just Johnny's mommy.

This little boy does not care if I managed to shave my legs today, this week, or this month. Nor does he care if I don't get all of my errands done or complete my impossible to-do lists. If there are dishes in the sink, if he is wearing mismatched pajamas, if I let him watch a movie so that I could get a paper done on time...none of it matters to him. All he cares about is whether or not his mommy smiles back at him when he smiles at her. That when he is crying and needs a hug, she is there with open arms. He cares that when his green stuffed Gator went M.I.A. she searched and worried for him until it was safely back in his arms a day later due to overnight delivery from his great-grandparents house. He knows that his mommy isn't perfect, but she's the only one that manages to get his cereal and sliced bananas just how he likes them morning after morning. The one who is there when he wakes up in the morning, ready to greet the world. In his eyes, I'm his mommy...and that is the only prerequisite.

I am tired of feeling inadequate when it comes to parenting, just because I don't do everything perfect when it comes to taking care of my son. Or feeling judged because I am a full-time student and a full-time mommy. Can't I be both? Why must one be sacrificed for the other? Everything I do, I do for my son. Myself comes second. Should I not want to be the best person I can be, for my son? Or am I only stretching myself too thin...dividing my time among too many responsibilities to the point of mediocrity or inadequacy on every level.

All I know is that my son never goes hungry (thanks be to God), he is always relatively clean, he has plenty of toys and for the most part a lot of my time and attention, and most of all he has my unconditional and infinite love. Nobody will love him like I do. (I'll grant that God loves him on a level that I can never obtain, but I'm talking people here.) I'm his mother...I'm the one who stays up all night worrying when he gets sick and has fevers. I'm the one who was in labor with him for three days. The one who spent my time in the hospital post-birth wheeling myself to the NICU and back to visit my son. The mommy that struggled through the first few weeks of difficulty with breastfeeding; the one who carried him around in a sling while I signed paperwork and finalized my transfer to a new college. The one who has to hold him down when he gets shots, even though it means that my heart will break right there next to him. The very same one who protected him, worried about him, was patient with him, and loved him as he grew and explored and learned new things. I'm the one who looks at him and sees his past, his present, and his future all in one glimpse. The one who sees his grin and remembers the first time I looked into his beautiful eyes and at the same time wonders if that will be the very same grin he'll have as his bride faces him on his wedding day? What joys and pains, struggles and gains will my little boy have to endure in his life? Will he look back on his life shortly before turning 22 and wonder the same things? Will he worry if he has taken advantage of every moment and every gift that has been given to him--will he regret the way he spends his time? When he thinks back on his childhood and his parents, will he resent either?

What do I have to offer to this wonderful little miracle? Why was I chosen to be his mother? What trust does God have in me that I do not have in myself?

I think I am slowly beginning to realize that the only person I am trying to prove anything to is myself. The more labels and burdens I layer upon myself, the more lost I get. Will I ever find my way back to the young woman who had dreams and aspirations to change the world?

Starting today I vow to take back my life. No more worrying about to-do lists, money, arguments, etc. Today is the day that I take responsibility for how I live my life and the person that I choose to be, and to become. The person that we are is never a completed story--we are always growing and changing, and each of us has the potential to do great things. We all have the ability to step back and take inventory of our lives and to DECIDE to live every single moment to the fullest.

My name is Jessica. I am a loving mother to Johnny, a devoted wife and best friend to John. This is what matters. This is who I am.