Motherhood, nothing quite like it

You know, I’m only 30, but I’ve done a decent amount with my life thus far. I’ve lived in foreign lands and travelled to third world countries and stayed among the natives; I’ve studied philosophy and theology and patristics, Latin, French and Greek; I’ve played in chess tournaments in England, and was captain of my boat on the crew team at Oxford; I’ve got a law degree from Notre Dame and clerk on my state’s Supreme Court… But the absolute greatest thing I’ve ever done, the most satisfying, the most wondrous, is being a mother. Bar none. After the diapers, spit-ups, thousand loads of laundry, and sleep-deprivation, Marie’s little smile still sends me over the moon, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The vocation of motherhood is truly a blessed one, and I would not have believed such love were possible if I had not experienced it myself. What a grace from God, “Who daily burdens us with benefits.” Is there anything better than the chance to raise little saints, whose immortal souls will sing of God’s glory through all eternity? I get so excited thinking about all the ways in which I, through God’s grace, might instill a love of virtue in my daughter; how I can teach her to fall in love with Jesus, the One Who in His mercy called her forth into existence from nothing. I get excited thinking about teaching her what Alice von Hildebrand termed “holy cosmetics”–the hidden acts of love that go toward beautifying the most precious thing she owns, her soul, which God and all of Heaven see but which remains invisible to the earthly eye.

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On a side note, these babyriders are wonderful–you know, instead of a backpack, it’s a frontpack, where the baby rides in front facing inward (for now, anyway–her neck’s too weak for her to face forward). At first I was holding her and typing with one hand (which makes typing excruciatingly slow). Then I tried cradling her precariously in my lap while I typed with two hands (not recommended). Now she’s snug in her babyrider and asleep against my chest, and I’ve got both hands marvelously free.