Walking Contradiction

Yesterday, as I was rocking Karter for his nap, and sweating off any ate-too-much-ice-cream-this-week weight off while doing so, I came to the realization that I am a walking contradiction.  I found myself sitting up there longing for the days of fall, with it's crisp hoodie weather...but then I remembered in fall sitting up there longing for the long, warm days of spring.  I long for vacations, and then when I am there, I long to be home.  Am I ever satisfied?  Though I try to be content in every situation, my human nature (that's what I am choosing to blame it on) causes discontent in me.

Since having a child, I've noticed that this character trait has made itself more noticeable within myself.  For the first few weeks, months even, I longed for the days when my baby would be an independent, mobile little boy, not needing me within 5 feet of him at all times.  Now, here I find myself with a more mobile boy (though, I still have to be within 5 feet of him at all times) and I long for the days when I could put him in the swing and go to the bathroom, without him crawl-running to the door and banging on it (yes, it's already started.)  My brother and I were looking at pics of Karter when he was just a wee little lad and I couldn't believe how much he had changed already.  Though those sleepless nights and days with a colicky baby were so tough, I shouldn't have been so quick to wish them away.

I guess what I have learned is that I will always be wishing for something else, something that I think is 'better.'  My job as a mom, though, is to acknowledge that fact, but learn to enjoy the current moment I have with my child.  I know now, that I even though I am wishing for the day when he can walk on his own, without me being there to catch his fall, I will look back on these days and wish for them again.  And when I do, I'll know that I did my best to enjoy every second of catching his little bottom before it hit the ground, chasing him up the stairs, and peeing faster, because goodness knows, that 30 seconds I'm gone is traumatic for him.