A Fussy Day Walk

B’s been having some fussy days.  Brand new teeth, a mystery food allergy (I actually think the culprit is grains, which are pretty new to him), and growing pains.  This morning, I strapped him into the stroller to watch the world go by together, hoping it would take his mind off of his baby worries.  Of course, I brought the baby carrier, too, because, well, often a walk that begins like this:

Ends like this:

Even when he is in a good mood!

He made it about 15 minutes before demanding the baby carrier.  I always enjoy an excuse to snuggle that baby boy, so we walked home with his head nestled under my chin and the stroller pushed along, empty, before us.

In complete earnestness, I say: these are the best days of my life.  I know in my heart that raising children is the most important thing I will ever do,  my biggest contribution to the world.  More important than anything I ever publish, than any service I ever provide, than any item I ever sell.  I am fascinated by children, by the biology of how they grow, by the process by which they become their own people.

Motherhood feels important to me.  Even the parenting tasks that are commonly maligned or belittled — changing diapers, soothing crying jags, washing sticky fingers, reading favorite books again and again — feel important to me, small pieces of the larger puzzle of good parenting, simple factors that, if multiplied deftly, result in the product of a happy family.

I spent years engaged in academic pursuits the world told me should be deeply fulfilling, but, to me, weren’t.  Now I spend my days engaged in domestic pursuits the world tells me shouldn’t be deeply fulfilling, but, to me, are.  It took becoming a mother to show me that a mother is what I was always meant to be.  I am so thankful to Bennett for bringing my heart to this place.

Especially on, and through, his fussy days.