Really, the Enjoy It cliché is harmless. It's even good advice. So why does it bother me so much?
I remember the first three colicky months of Will's life. I actually look back on the day we left the hospital and feel sorry for myself, completely ignorant of the road ahead. That the hospital's photographer couldn't get a tearless snap of Will should have clued me in, but no, this already-sleep-deprived mama headed home with the excitement--and naivety--common to her first-time-mom condition. I didn't sleep a wink that first night for watching that baby swing by our bed, checking whether his chest was still rising and falling and anticipating his next cry for what only I could give. My store of adrenaline surprisingly kept me going like that for the first two weeks. Ryan and I would take turns bouncing and walking and shh-ing and singing to our screaming bundle of joy. One night it went on for six hours straight. No amount of standing in a dark, quiet closet did anything to dull our boy's senses or usher in sleep. Guilt was born in my heart that night and set up shop among its already residing friends sleepy, uncertainty, and fear. All around me people were telling me to "Enjoy it because it goes by so fast." The only part of that phrase that offered me any hope at the time was the second half: It goes by so fast. Oh please let that be true!
Besides the guilt it engendered for me, advocates of the Enjoy It advice always seems to deliver it with the same sad, guilty, regretful sentiment in their expression. It's as if every person who gives that advice has grown children who live out of the country and never call home. I admit, fear of sharing their sentiment later has driven me to really think about their advice in the first place. How can I make sure I enjoy these years so I don't have regrets later?
What's funny about this question is that I used to ask it a lot when mom was still here. I knew she wouldn't be around forever. In fact, towards the end, I wondered if each time I left her house might be the last time I saw her. Knowing my time was short drove me to wring every last drop of enjoyment I could out of every moment we shared together. Sure, a lot of what we did together was truly enjoyable, like lying on the couch, watching t.v., and eating cookies, or going to Wal-Mart to look at bandanas. But a fair amount of our time together wasn't that fun, like taking her to the bathroom and praying the whole time that she wouldn't fall because I wasn't strong enough to get her back up, or spoon feeding her cereal while half the contents of each spoonful landed in her lap instead of in her mouth. With its mix of good and bad moments, when I look back on the time I had with mom, I can honestly say I have no regrets. Our time together was so sweet.
If I can be so bold as to offer advice in a blog post about annoying advice, I'd sum it up in two words. And it's not Enjoy It. It's: Be Present. At least once in my day, I should be conscious of my state in life: I went through childbirth, my biggest fear, and now I'm mom to an adorable 11 month old who needs me to carry him everywhere and who squeals and laughs unprompted just because life is good. Thinking now about not having regrets later keeps me from having regrets later. Could it really be as simple as just being conscious on a daily basis?
I wish I had employed this philosophy during childbirth. I can say I was not mentally present for that. And I don't mean I was too drugged up on pain medicine to know what was going on. From the moment the first contraction started, my mind was a running stream of consciousness of things we'd talked about in our nine-week Preparing for Childbirth class: How far apart are the contractions? When do I go to the hospital? When can I get the epidural? Will I need a C-section? Not once did I stop and think: My first-born son is about to have a birthday.
And I haven't yet mentioned the other problem with Enjoy It: Those people for whom that advice just isn't appropriate (but of course the perfect strangers giving it don't know that): The first-time mom and friend of mine who sings hymns to her baby boy in his hospital room while he's strapped to a bed, and busy, beeping machines keep his heart beating after major heart surgery. The other first-time-mom-friend-of-mine who wonders if today will be the day when her son chokes again on breastmilk and needs yet another corrective procedure performed on his esophagus. Or the naïve first-time-mom who who tried desperately to console her screaming little boy in a small dark closet at her parents' house, while in the next room the Hospice nurse checked her mother's vitals and said it wouldn't be long. Sometimes, Enjoy It truly is too cliché.
But what does Jesus say about all of this? Because that's all that really matters. In Ecclesiastes He tells us there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity, and He says He makes everything beautiful in its time. He says when times are good, we should be happy, and when times are bad, we should consider that God has made the one as well as the other. In James He says to consider it pure joy when we face varied trials, and in Philippians He tells us to rejoice always. His perspective is eternal, and therefore His commandments are not insensitive, but absolutely right, loving, and true.
Now that my son is almost one year old and my mama has had her angel wings for almost eight months, I'm thinking about the advice I'd give a newer mom than me. This is going to sound crazy, but you know what I would say? I'd join the chorus of everyone else and tell her to Enjoy It. Stop every day to think. Rejoice always. Consider God. Realize life is fleeting. Be present, thankful, yes, even joyful, in the good and the bad of your privileged mom position.
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| Who wouldn't enjoy that face? |
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