About teeth, love and acceptance.

Yesterday, at about 8.5 months, tooth #2 finally decided to make an appearance. This appearance has been much awaited, after having the lone front tooth singularly support his attempts at chewing everything in sight for the past month or so. Tooth #1 has more or less grown to full size already (I think?) and hopefully this new tooth will catch up soon. That will give him the cutest little smile in the whole wide world, with the two bottom front teeth flashing ;)

There's been the unavoidable nipple-biting, but he's been relatively kind to mommy and have only done it a couple of times. When he does, it was simple enough to just break his latch, say no and he would not do it again. Until the next time of course. But those puppies are tough so I'm not deterred from nursing just because of those pearly whites. Perhaps they've been well-trained by their other frequent visitor ;)

Ok. Sorry. TMI I know. Moving on now...

The old me would have came on here and ranted about my father yesterday morning, immediately after hearing about what happened. The old me would have used every profanity known to man to express my feelings to it's full entirety. Meaning I would have used enough cuss words to make your eyes bleed and even the best of sailors would blush.

But I'm not the old me now. That old me can now be found in my baby sister ;) This new me? Is but a jaded soul. One who has seen this coming from miles away. One who has seen and experienced such tyranny and heartless behaviour too many times to count. One who is more concerned about hurt feelings and broken hearts. One who would rather spend the effort listening to my crying sister over the phone, from thousands of miles away, then to curse the person who made her cry and broke her heart - her own father. Who happens to be mine too.

The new me saw the situation from a parent's point of view. And as a mother, I cannot ever imagine making my children choose between their happiness, and mine. Somehow, it is non-negotiable that their happiness would trump mine. Somehow, the parent in me cannot fathom how a father can force his child to give up their happiness for his own personal misplaced misgivings and ego. And how a mother can choose to overlook her child's happiness for her own peace, and not be willing to fight for her child's dreams.

Looking down at the little one nursing at my bosom, all I can think of whether he'll one day find his happiness. All I can think of is that that is a road he has to forge for himself, a path through the woods he has to clear on his own. The only thing I can do is support him and give him guidance where he asks for it. It is not my life to lead, not my choice to make, not my road to take. If it diverges from my imagination, all I can do is make sure he understands the consequences, then let him go. All while I stand in the shadows and pray he is right. If he is, I cheer. If he isn't, he'll know that I'm there to catch him before he falls, and I will not utter the words, "I told you so".

I read this yesterday, as part of my research for a new personal project I'm planning. And it spoke such volumes to me:

"Today, or in any age, there is really only one decision that underlies all other decisions concerning our children. This decision is whether we will choose love or fear; whether we will accept or resist the situations that happen with our children; whether we will choose to cooperate or to be adversarial with our children; and whether we will, see them as our equals or wield authority over them. These are the qualities that form the underbelly of our parenting decisions and the underpinnings of all actions that we take.

Sometimes we react with fear and authority inappropriately when we are worried about our own self-image. At other times, we choose fear and authority because of legitimate concerns over immoral, illegal, or unsafe behavior. How we make our parenting decisions underscores what we believe about human beings, about human nature, about the nature of the child. Is there inherent order and purpose in our child's development, or must we as parents bring this order and purpose to our child's life?" (instinctiveparenting.com)

I may have brought forth life, but that life is not mine to keep or live. It is only mine to nurture and let thrive. I choose love over fear, acceptance over resistance. Because the alternative is losing my child, whether physically or emotionally, and NOTHING is worth that. Nothing.

Wanna know how I know that? Because I left. I left the home I grew up in, before I was barely a woman in my own right. And these events remind me of why I did. Thinking about it makes me sad and angry. Because no child should ever feel the need to leave home in order to find happiness. But I did. And I'm lucky that I left for the right person. Will that be so for everyone else? I hope so. I really do.

The man in my life today is ten times the man, husband and father who gave me life. and I cannot tell you how grateful I am for that.