Giving Magic

Emma wanted to go outside on Monday. She always wants to go outside. It’s funny to me because I have preferred staying inside for so long that I never considered that I might have a child whose main goal on some days is to go out.

It had snowed, and I don’t like the snow. It’s pretty enough when it’s freshly fallen, sparkly and perfect, but it’s also cold. I cannot stand being cold. Nothing saps away my enjoyment of anything quite like it. But she had her little boots on her feet and was giving me those big, sad brown eyes as she said, “Outside? Outside?”

When I sighed and said, “All right”, she grinned, showing off the cute gap between her front teeth, and laughed. She asked for her jacket right away, and I got her ready to venture outdoors. I pulled on my boots and coat, and I planned for us to go out front so we could just walk along the sidewalk.

Nope. Emma wanted to be in the backyard.

Fine. Fine… I don’t want to be the lame mom who says no to adventure.

She was delighted. She wanted to run around, leaving footprints all over the yard. She wanted me to push her in the swing I had to clean off first. She wanted Mom with her every step of the way.

And she whined when we went inside, but she got over it shortly.

Then Tuesday, it had snowed again. Fresh powder. She told me again, “Outside.”

We got ready and spent even longer out back than we had the day before. And somehow, I didn’t freeze. I felt plenty warm. Just exhausted from being 32 weeks pregnant and chasing my one-year-old daughter through several inches of snow. It was good exercise, and Emma was excited that she wasn’t couped up inside.

You know, before having children, I thought I’d be a fun mom. Art projects, adventures, play-pretend, wide-eyed wonder… I wanted to give my someday children magic. Now I’m here and I feel like I’m without that magic. I’m trying to have grace with myself because I am pregnant, and my energy has been so low. But my heart breaks a little thinking that I might never be the mom I imagined myself being.

Admittedly, I’ve been feeling a little blue here and there as the days go by. Not every day, and when it surfaces, it’s not around all day. I keep hoping it’s hormone-related. I keep telling myself that I’m doing good, that Emma is a happy and wonderful kid, that our little one will be loved and cared for, that I can give only what I can give, and it will be enough. I’m enough.

All my child needed was an hour running in the snow. That was the thing that made her happy. So I just need to continue with the small and simple. My kid’s joy will supply the magic.