Speaking of Nan

No offense to any of you out there with a perfect child, but you all make me feel like crap. I know I know, you aren't trying to say that at all.  I know, I know the miracle of perfect children, my first was one, he never cried.
So the point is I have had a perfect child, but I hate to hear about other perfect children, because it makes my inner ego scream, what the heck is wrong with you?  What have you done that makes number two hard to manage?  Yes, I know all of this has no effect on me, but who out there watches the Middle on ABC? Come on maybe if I wasn't a lazy parent my kids would be better, then at the end of the 30 minutes, I realize its not me, its the kids.  Yes, I relate to Frankie.
I have one and only sister remember, in my vast amount of immediate relatives, all of which I love, but only one sister.  She has a perfect second child, and when we talk, I'm almost jealous, but not really, because I love my sister and my nieces, and my daughter, and everyone is who they are, and so we all endure.  Right?  I can't actually have jealously in my heart when I think about our small group of females who share the same maternal grandma.  My sister can talk about her second perfect child, because she understands all that.
I remember when my son was a baby, people would ask me if he was a good baby.  He was, and I said yes.  But inside the question bothered me, why does not crying mean good?  I think my daughter is plenty great, but she would hardly fit the definition of what the people were asking. I asked my mom about it.  I said what do you answer if your baby is hard to handle.  She said, she's a lot of work, but we love her anyway.
Anyway, who knew that would be prophetic.
So speaking of Nan...
On Sunday my visiting teachers (two women in my church congregation who are assigned to me visit me and share a religious thought, but mostly just listen to me jabber) were over.  Both are married, but neither of them have children, they seem genuinely interested in my children, intrigued and in awe. So when one of them mentioned Nan I wasn't offended. She said, I noticed when we were singing in the choir, your daughter was so happy. Normally when you see her at church, she is .... well.. seems not very happy, she doesn't seem to enjoy church.  But she was so happy to see you sing in the choir, I've never seen her so happy at church.  Oh it made me laugh to hear that.
I love my daughter, but sometimes wonder if Brent and I are weak sauce, or just whiners, or maybe imagining things.  Are we lazy parents like Frankie and Mike? But thank goodness, for visiting teaching, I will not remember I single thing they said last Sunday as time passes, other than someone else notices that Nan is rarely happy at church. It would have been impossible for me to be offended by what she said, she said it with no projection on me.  It was just relief I felt.
That is the problem with perfect babies, I feel like they are every where.  Everyone in the blogsphere, has a perfect baby but me! Everyone is so blessed but me.  Yes, I know that is not the way blessings work.  I guess I'll just have to remember that next time someone is wondering why they don't have financial blessings, or when someone is wondering why they don't have a boy and a girl.  Or when they don't have whatever they are wishing for.
 But just let just tell you I'm so happy to meet someone who didn't have an easy going baby. Which is why Sister Muse at church might always be immortalized in my mind.  She was the woman who said to me, that sounds exactly like my second child, my first daughter.  There comes a time when you just have to say it not colic anymore, because they aren't growing out of it.  If I would have had anymore as hard as her, I would have never made it to seven. Oh yes, I love her so much for that comment, almost enough to name another baby after her, but only because her first name is one of my very favorite names.
One day my daughter might read all these posts and feel bad.  I will have no good answer for her when she asks why?  Other then, you drove me batty, you would sit on the ground playing with your toys just whining. You would wander around the house whining, you would eat dinner whining, you would suck your thumb whining.  I don't even understand how that was possible.  There was nothing we could do get you to stop that noise, it drove us all nuts.  But even with that, I love you more than you'll know, so much that I couldn't even go more than a few hours kissing your cheek.  The noises were hardly perfect, but you are the miracle of Nan.