Magical Moments

As a stay-at-home mom, I've realized that the memories you will cherish of your child aren't forced--they happen naturally. By Sherrie Page Najarian

"Maa-maaa!" My two-year-old daughter, Alex, called from her crib. I bounded up the stairs, excited to have the whole day to play with her. I was now, officially, a stay-at-home mom. Lucky enough to have the option, I'd made a tough decision and quit my job as a registered nurse.

"Ready for some fun?" I picked up Alex and gave her a tight squeeze, grateful to finally have the time to conquer all the "mommy-and-me" projects I'd collected from parenting magazines. I could never get to them on weekends, and I was ready to catch up. Alex and I would make animal masks out of paper plates in the morning and homemade Play-Doh in the afternoon. For lunch, I'd use cookie cutters to make edible figurines out of American cheese slices. After her nap, we'd make gift wrap using Alex's handprints. My life could finally be full of the magical moments I imagined filled up the days of stay-at-home mothers everywhere.

While singing nursery rhymes, I poured pancake batter into heart-shaped molds, a breakfast that literally showed my love. As I handed Alex her plate, I took a deep breath of satisfaction; she looked so sweet in her new dress and matching hair bow. The day was ours to enjoy. I turned my back for only a second and was shocked to turn back around to find Alex covered in syrup. I'd imagined pushing my princess through the grocery store in her new outfit, while white-haired ladies nodded approvingly over their shopping carts. The fantasy would have to wait. By the time I changed her clothes, cleaned up the breakfast mess, started the laundry, changed a stinky pull-up, and answered two phone calls, I was already way behind schedule. When would I have time to fit in my list of magical moments? On my way out the door, I noticed a note from my husband telling me to please Express Mail the important papers he'd left on his desk to our accountant. The note went on to say that he needed his shirts from the dry cleaners for tomorrow's business trip, and since I no longer worked and had the whole day, could I make his favorite pot roast for dinner?

I sighed. "Well, Alex. We better get moving."

The line at the post office was out the door with only one clerk on duty. Intrigued by all the packaging materials, Alex kept getting away from me to touch everything. I didn't see the harm until…crash! She knocked over a display of assorted envelopes. I sheepishly cleaned up the mess, thankful a nice man took pity on me and saved my place in line.

From there, we finally headed off to the dry cleaners, but Alex fell asleep in the car. I wanted to run in and leave her napping, but I sensed child abductors lurking everywhere and decided to just go home and let her sleep in peace.

As soon as I turned off the car engine, Alex's eyes shot open and she wailed out a tired cry. As I carried her into the house, I sobbed with her, my high expectations spilling out with my tears. What happened to our perfect day?

When did stay-at-home moms fit in all those quality child-parent activities? I wouldn't even let myself think about my other goals to commit to a regular exercise schedule and start an at-home business. I had really been clueless about this stay-at-home-mom stuff.

Hugging my precious daughter, we rocked and sniffled together. "You're my honey-bear," I whispered, feeling the weight of her sink into me. Her eyes gently shut, and I held her until she fell back asleep in my arms. I stroked the soft hair that curled above her neck and breathed in her smell, a mixture of sweat and maple syrup. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed for the first time that day. I was there with my daughter, forgetting about my to-do list, and it felt good.

Still, it took years for me to realize that such moments were the best and far surpassed the ones I tried to invent with heart-shaped pancakes or processed cheese sculptures. The less I tried to create life's magical moments, the more I was able to notice them when they naturally happened. And they were even more delicious as surprises.

Reprinted of Sherrie Page Najarian (c) 2006 from Chicken Soup for the Soul: Life Lessons for Busy Moms by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Dorothy K. Breininger, Debby S. Bitticks and Lynn Benson.