Loving my three sons

With my eldest darling boy, I feel so much pressure to do well. I try to get away from the pressure by being a chill mom and, honestly, I am the chillest mom I know. I am super chill. Like, totally. But there is effort to be relaxed, you know what I mean? For example, if someone tells you that someone else is talking about you behind your back and you say, "I don't care," isn't there still a part of you that does care, that wants to know what exactly is that backbiting person saying? But you push it from your mind actively. You resist. You will yourself to not be affected. So yes you don't care but you decided to not care.

That's me with the whole motherhood thing. I don't need to be perfect or do what a mother is "supposed to do," and that's a loooooooong and scary list, especially in the age of the Alpha Parent. All I need to do is care for the boys that were given me in the best way I can, given my talents, abilities and resources, with loads of love. As long as my kids are happy, healthy and good people, I know I'm doing something right.

And yet I feel that pressure to be a perfect mom. I push back just as relentlessly, but it's there. It's there. Worse, I feel like my children, especially Vito as my firstborn, are expected by other people to reflect that perfection projected at me.

I know Vito feels it, too, because he's the first child and he has to be the role model for his brothers. He has to be good. He has to be more mature. He has to be responsible. We don't insist on that. He just knows it. He knows his younger brothers (well, Iñigo, for now) will copy his behavior—good and bad. This weighs heavily on him. We don't place that responsibility on his shoulders but he knows it's there anyway. He's become so sensible and mature, like a little man, so serious and thoughtful, which makes him strangely older than his age and yet he's so sweet, and I'm swelled up with pride. That wonderful, awesome, little man is my boy! My boy!


So I worry about Iñigo, too. I want us to parent him so that he knows he is loved so much, that there is no competition, that he is amazing just as he is, that he has nothing to fight for. We love him as is! Yes, he's funny and sweet and entertaining—and we love that!—but even when he's annoying and throwing a tantrum, we still love him anyway. I hope we show him that and I hope he believes that, because he's special to us. He's loved simply because he's my boy. My boy!

With Piero, my precious sweetheart, suddenly I feel the pressure's off. He doesn't have to meet his milestones on time (he does). He doesn't have to be entertaining (he is). He doesn't have to do anything (he doesn't!) because I just want him to let me love him because he's my last baby. While everything is a first with Vito, everything is a last with Piero. So everything is savored. This is the last time I'm going to hear my newborn child cry. This is the last time I'm going to put breast milk on infant acne. This is the last time I'm going to breastfeed my child. This is the last time I'm going to make my baby laugh for the first time. This is the last time... everything. And it makes me panicky and relieved and sad and happy and it's glorious and bittersweet and familiar and strange all at the same time.

With Vito, it was a welcome, a triumph, at every milestone. With Iñigo, same victorious feelings. With Piero, it's a welcome as much as a good-bye. This is the first time he laughed... I'll never hear a first-time baby laugh from my child again. It's too precious, everything he does, because his firsts will always be my lasts. So I just want to drink him in, enjoy everything about my youngest boy, my last and precious boy.  

Each of my children has different needs and I love them all in a different way. Same big love, shared equally, but shown differently. I hope I'm really doing the right things. I do want to be the best mother to my kids, and while I do resist the pressure to be perfect, I am open to advice and suggestions. I know that not everything that works for some moms will work for me or my kids. The pressure also keeps me on my toes, knowing that this is the age of the most documented lives (parenting included) in the history of mankind. So there really should be an effort to make sure that what I document, my kids (yes, my kids, not the public!) will be happy and proud about. "Mama and Papa loved us. They may not have been perfect, but they tried every day to be good parents. And we had a happy childhood because of their love!"

Each day is a chance to learn and love. Some days, I fail at the learning, sometimes I also fail at the loving. But I'm grateful for every new day I have with my boys, that new chance to be a better mother to them.


Amen. May we all love with the love of our Father!

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear." I John 4:18


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