Then Comes the Day

It’s a worn out cliché, but still very true: time does fly. When my daughter was born, I couldn’t fathom a day when she would feed herself, much less get dressed on her own. She was totally dependent on the loving people around her. As she grew to be a toddler, I endured the long days with twenty minute intervals of playtime and boring videos of The Wiggles and Caillou, snacktime and lunchtime and naptime, wishing for the time when it would get better. At the time, I didn’t know it wouldn’t be like this forever. Everything about parenting has its own time, its own schedule, and it goes by regardless. Before I could notice the changes, she was in Kindergarten and I felt relief that I could get things done while she was at school and spend the rest of our time together. Except she had other plans. She enjoyed playing after school with the neighbor kids, or the dog, or even alone while I watched from the kitchen window. I was no longer the one she was dependent on for companionship. I was glad that she had made the transition, and truly relieved that she could play alone or with other kids without including me. That was when she was five. Now that we are speeding toward twelve, I don’t feel so relieved. It’s the hardest part about creating a human being – eventually they leave you.

You will have regrets, of days that you put on the Baby Einstein video, maybe for several hours, and just did something else – something adult. You never get a break. You think that it will never end, that you will never get to sleep in on Saturday ever again, or be the first one into bed at night. You think that you just can’t read one more bedtime story. And then the day comes that you wake up before your teenager. Or she tells you no thanks, I don’t want to read a story together tonight. You feel the tightening in your chest, realizing that those days you waited for to be over, are over.

Man Down!

Check out this video. Just a glimpse into daily life with Corban..... I was out back with the kids, and just watching them play. Suddenly, he takes his car and tosses it over like he's the Incredible Hulk. Then he throws himself down onto the grass, laying there for a moment, then starts to giggle. The first time he did it, I was sure he would come up crying.... but instead he picked up the car, and did it again. We started to holler, "call the ambulance - man down" and that made him giggle more....

It is SOOOOOO much different with a boy - and he is all boy. I imagine, daily, just how my mother in law, Martha, saw life with 4 boys. He loves the dirt, anything with wheels and that makes noise, and especially fire trucks. However, the kid does like to have a good cry - often!

Chalk Drawings

Every day, as I (reluctantly) get out of bed, my thoughts turn to the day ahead. Caring for my daughter and gransdon is sometimes just too much. I find myself longing for peace - quiet - a moment when no one is calling Mommy or Oma, a moment when there is just me alone.

I spent a lot of time by myself as a kid. I was shy and had no siblings living at home with me. I read books - sometimes over and over. I became accustomed to being alone, and in the quiet I began to find who I was. Of course, I grew up and the shyness evaporated, thankfully. Now when I tell people how shy I was, they look at me with a curious stare - you, you were shy?????

So each day, I feel torn - I do want to be with the kids, helping them grow and learn. But I find myself wandering away, mentally, wanting to go to my quiet place of solitude and to just be alone. And some days, the more time I get away, the harder it is to get back into the mix of kids, noise from toys, music blaring, tv in the background, laughter. That's when we grab a puzzle, colorbook, or the sidewalk chalk, and that I can handle.