Minute Mama

In my formative years, I dedicated my time to other formative years.

I held other mama’s babies, rocked them to sleep, taught them to potty on the potty, write their names, keep track of their numbers.

I fed them. Soothed them. Played and adventured with them.

During my growing up years, I was the Minute Mama.

The temporary open arms when you fall on the playground and skin your knee. Momentary shoulder to cry on when your comrades tease your princess dress choice. Interim lullaby singer, and cookie-dough crafter. Provisional Provider. Minute Mama.

They say when you become a Mama, you learn from them more than they learn from you. They’re right.

Caverns in my heart are filled with the pieces gained from all my minute babies. Broken crayons. Toy cars missing a wheel. Drawings scribbled on torn paper, folded many times. Marbles missing their siblings. Pinecones stolen from a nest. Acorns separated from their seed. This is what fills the nooks and crannies of my heart.

Except.

Then I had my first daughter.

And my heart exploded. All of the previous hollows remain, with their little accoutrement in tow. But now, my heart stretches and reshapes day by day. New tunnels are carved out by growing grottos who bleed into advancing trenches.

Her laugh. Scrunchy nose. Bouncy curls. All fill me up. But so do her heartaches. Tears, runny nose, begs, demands.

A Minute Mama loves wholly for each minute. She holds, cherishes, until the Real Mama comes. But now, the Minute Mama is the Real Mama. And my arms grow tired. My eyes blur and time speeds up as it slows down so that I am never not carrying them with me. I love wholly for each minute, of each day, for all eternity. That is how my heart is forming.

To keep carrying, even when I ache. To keep caring, even when I lose myself. To keep soothing, even when I am only sharp edges to myself.

I often think of my minutes babies. What they taught me. What I gained from loving all of them.

But not any of them taught me how to love my forever babies. I learn how every day. And I learn again. Day to day. I re-learn. Re-write. Try again. Where I failed yesterday, I will have to try again today. And if I fail today, there is tomorrow.