today is my mom's birthday. when i called to wish her a happy birthday, i mentioned that eva has been a bit fussy (i believe my actual description was "super squawky") all day. through eva's noises in the background, mom observed that she was likely teething. well... duh. i'd completely forgotten that that was even an option, despite the fact i had been looking out for it in weeks past. it's just amazing to me how the obvious answer can be totally elusive at times. so anyway, i stuck a teether in the fridge (and called it macaroni! sorry. i've been listening to too much "disney's favorites vol. 2").
since eva's birth, i've been thinking about how no one probably ever gets what it is their parents did for them, but it becomes far clearer once you have your own kids. i spend all day every day feeding, holding, dressing, changing, bathing, soothing, entertaining, and in all other ways caring for eva, and will continue to do so every single day for the next many years before there's even a chance she'll remember one tiny bit of it. and that's fine, it's as it should be, and it's exactly what i signed up for (okay, more or less). but it's made me realize... my parents did the same for me. and i don't remember any of it, nor do i remember at least half of my entire childhood -- and i certainly don't remember the individual meals or clean clothes or general hard work day after day, including the days they were at their wits' end and did it anyway. and i know you don't become a parent to rake in all the accolades, but still. this whole internal source of validation thing is tricky (especially for those of us who spent years jumping through elaborate hoops to get those little gold stars).
so, mom, thanks for having me. i kind of get it now. and happy (first grandma) birthday.