I decided today not to feel bad anymore about parenting a child who has been born filled with light, adventure, beauty and precociousness. Up until now, I wondered if I was being too risky and wild with my little girl.
I am proud to declare that my baby wears dirty clothes and has sesame seeds imbedded in her neck folds. She is rambunctious, opens and closes doors, and has become truly unstoppable. But it's not like I let her run in the road naked at 8:30 at night, chased by a gang of kids with a cold hose! Oh wait, I do.
But see, the thing is, she's having so much fun, and she's OK. She's OK walking in her bare feet in the grass. She's OK eating a few rose petals. She's OK when she gets a little sunburn on a place I missed with the lotion. She's OK putting her whole head underwater at swim class, eating spicy food, getting scrapes and bumps, moving the furniture, eating all the flaps off of her Elmo book and hanging upside down from her ankles.
I know she's OK because she is happy and glad for the freedom. Babycakes and I live on the edge, it seems, compared to the calm life prescribed for babies in their first year, and I have, in the past, wondered if I will eventually RUE my zen-like attitude about her extremely adventurous nature.
I started out as a cautious mom, before her personality began to unfold. I tried to keep her in her snap-in infant carseat, but she HATED the confinement so she's been in a big-girl convertible seat since she was three months old. Now she thinks all of her baby toys are STUPID, and she wants to run, in a pack, with all of the older kids on our block.
[The kids are nice to her in general, but she can't talk, she runs slow, and she steals their food with no remorse whatsoever. So she's not as popular as she wishes.]
I keep thinking: She's only TEN MONTHS OLD! She's supposed to be pulling herself up on things, exploring her world from a calm, observant point of view. Apparently she's not reading "What to Expect in the First Year" because she's RUNNING, I tell you. She's talking to all of the dogs in the neighborhood in a strangely authoritative manner (and they listen!). She eats almost everything we eat -- but she DOESN'T want me to cut it into smaller chunks, no, she wants the whole banana (with the peel, thanks). (I chop her food up anyway, because SISTER, you do NOT want to see what a diaper filled with whole blueberries and black beans looks like. OK?)
Today I came across that old Marianne Williamson quote about fear. I now realize how often I try to put Babycakes' light under a bushel -- minimizing her precocious accomplishments for my own stupid reasons, and trying to fit her in other babies' molds.
No more! What follows is my own bastardization of the Williamson quote, followed by the original. And to all you wild babies out there: RUN! Here comes the hose!!!
"Our deepest fear is not that our children are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that our children are powerful beyond measure. It is their light, not their darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who is she to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who is she not to be? She is a child of God. Her playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking her so that other people won't feel insecure around her. We are all meant to shine. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our child's light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same, for themselves and their children."
Marianne Williamson's original quote, from "A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles":
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."