I am not particularly good at transitions. (You are, I am sure, reeling with shock at this revelation.) While I like new things, when things are going well I am reluctant to muck about with them. I have been using the same shampoo and conditioner for at least ten years. Sometimes I buy the one for extra volume, and sometimes I buy the one for extra moisture. But it’s been the same brand for probably hundreds of bottles. Because it works.
Simon is no longer working. Much to my dismay he insists on growing, both physically and mentally. Every bed and naptime for the last five days, he has resisted going into his crib. He has cried, he has raged, and he has manipulated his commodious mother into rocking him to sleep every single time. Bad mommy. Clever Simon.
It is time, I acknowledge, to give up the crib. He hasn’t crawled out of it in a week, but it’s clear that he’s ready to give it up. I intuited this when he told me, “No more crib. Simon bed.” Sometimes, the subtle cues are obvious enough to penetrate even the haziest fog of denial.
And if he is ready to give up the crib, then (deep fortifying breath) maybe it’s time to give up the high chair as well. When does it end? Next thing you know, he’ll be four and a half pounds heavier, and ready to move into the booster car seat, and it’s just a half a step from there until he’s retired and collecting a pension.
To say that having two bullheaded strong-willed preschoolers in the house is an ongoing challenge is to say that the blogosphere has a few words in it… a serious understatement. But you know what? I’d freeze-frame it all and stay here forever. If I could, I’d do the Groundhog Day thing right now: the tantrums because the milk is in the blue cup instead of the green one; the constant testing (a university has less testing than our house these days); and, the exasperation of cleaning up the same set of toys over and over and over again (and why, for the love of god, do all the toys we own suddenly have 900 pieces each? Nobody brings another toy into this house that so much as breaks in half. One piecers only, all others need not apply, thank you for your interest.) I’d put up with the endless pestering of “now can you play with me?”, the capricious moods, the sparrow’s-first-fart wake-ups, and the infernal bickering – I’d do it all forever, if I could. Because I’m not so good with change. And while there are days they drive me to distraction, for the most part it’s good. It’s very, very good.
I look at them, these strange creatures that call me Mum (they’re not even in school, and already I’m no longer Mummy) and I never want it to change. I don’t want them to grow up into querulous ten-year-olds, nor petulant teenagers. I don’t want them to tower over me; I want them to be just the right size for me to fold my arms around them and scoop them up and make them a part of me again. I don’t want their downy cheeks to bristle, I don’t want their sweet milky skin to smell like musk – and I sure as hell don’t want them to smell like some other woman. I don’t want to watch them graduate, to move away, to fall in love and get married and have a family other than us.
But mostly I don’t want to let Simon have a bed because it’s easier when he’s in his crib and I know where he is. He’s a pest, that one. Nothing but trouble. And the idea of him wandering around and on the loose late at night when everyone is sleeping should scare the hell out of you, too.
Oh Dani, I was doing just fine until…
I want them to be just the right size for me to fold my arms around them and scoop them up and make them a part of me again. I don’t want their downy cheeks to bristle, I don’t want their sweet milky skin to smell like musk – and I sure as hell don’t want them to smell like some other woman. I don’t want to watch them graduate, to move away, to fall in love and get married and have a family other than us….
I just about choked on my muffin. No one told me THAT was going to happen!
Cripes, now I’m sitting here with a lump in my throat the size of Texas wondering how I can stop this from happening.
Sigh, say it ain’t so…
Oh Dani, I was doing just fine until…
I want them to be just the right size for me to fold my arms around them and scoop them up and make them a part of me again. I don’t want their downy cheeks to bristle, I don’t want their sweet milky skin to smell like musk – and I sure as hell don’t want them to smell like some other woman. I don’t want to watch them graduate, to move away, to fall in love and get married and have a family other than us….
I just about choked on my muffin. No one told me THAT was going to happen!
Cripes, now I’m sitting here with a lump in my throat the size of Texas wondering how I can stop this from happening.
Sigh, say it ain’t so…
BIIIIIIIG deeeeeeep breath. Iiiiin, oooout. As much as you have describe so many emotions that I share with you…this. too. shall. pass. As hard as it is for us to see them grow up, look ahead to the multi-billions of good things we will get to do with our children. (and yes, even when they are taller than us and old enough to vote).
I sigh with sadness at every phase I see passing, knowing I will very likely never see someone learn to poop in the potty ever again, or recognize their name, or say prayers to Buzz Lightyear. That is the hardest. But then again, so is the journey of life. I do have one solution for us.
Have another baby.
BIIIIIIIG deeeeeeep breath. Iiiiin, oooout. As much as you have describe so many emotions that I share with you…this. too. shall. pass. As hard as it is for us to see them grow up, look ahead to the multi-billions of good things we will get to do with our children. (and yes, even when they are taller than us and old enough to vote).
I sigh with sadness at every phase I see passing, knowing I will very likely never see someone learn to poop in the potty ever again, or recognize their name, or say prayers to Buzz Lightyear. That is the hardest. But then again, so is the journey of life. I do have one solution for us.
Have another baby.
I like the way Nancy thinks!
hugs to you, Dani. I may be a change addict, but I too struggle with watching Frances grow up.
I like the way Nancy thinks!
hugs to you, Dani. I may be a change addict, but I too struggle with watching Frances grow up.
You capture in words what so many of us feel and you do it so, so well. If only they never have to grow up, then neither do we :).
At the same time, I have dreams where I watch “J” playing football in highschool. I see him walking very tall with his blonde hair and I love him so much, that I can’t wait to see if he will look like he does in my dreams.
As for Simon and not knowing where he is, well, Hubby and I were upstairs for a few minutes getting ready and we thought “J” was on the couch watching a movie, until I felt the cold draft of the back door!! Yep, he was out playing with the dogs, all he could say was “Mommy, I have my boots on” too bad he didn’t have pants and a sweater on too! Time for a lock on the sliding door.
You capture in words what so many of us feel and you do it so, so well. If only they never have to grow up, then neither do we :).
At the same time, I have dreams where I watch “J” playing football in highschool. I see him walking very tall with his blonde hair and I love him so much, that I can’t wait to see if he will look like he does in my dreams.
As for Simon and not knowing where he is, well, Hubby and I were upstairs for a few minutes getting ready and we thought “J” was on the couch watching a movie, until I felt the cold draft of the back door!! Yep, he was out playing with the dogs, all he could say was “Mommy, I have my boots on” too bad he didn’t have pants and a sweater on too! Time for a lock on the sliding door.
Oh, Dani. I’ve so been there and am still there in so many ways. The good news is, (I’m thinking even more so with boys) they probably won’t grow up as fast as you think. Or even want to. I never imagined that my 10-year old would still want to hug, kiss, and spend time with me as she does now. She’s almost as big as me, but in so many ways, still a little girl. I’m hoping she sticks it out until she’s about, well let’s say . . 42.
And don’t forget, you still have ‘Frosty’ too!
Oh, Dani. I’ve so been there and am still there in so many ways. The good news is, (I’m thinking even more so with boys) they probably won’t grow up as fast as you think. Or even want to. I never imagined that my 10-year old would still want to hug, kiss, and spend time with me as she does now. She’s almost as big as me, but in so many ways, still a little girl. I’m hoping she sticks it out until she’s about, well let’s say . . 42.
And don’t forget, you still have ‘Frosty’ too!
(o)
I know just how you feel, Dani. Especially since we’re not planning to have another one.
I had a conversation with an older woman once, about the “last” milestones of a child’s growth. She said, “You know, as my son got bigger I’d think, ‘Someday when he sits on my lap it will be for the last time.’ And one day it was.”
Sob!
(o)
I know just how you feel, Dani. Especially since we’re not planning to have another one.
I had a conversation with an older woman once, about the “last” milestones of a child’s growth. She said, “You know, as my son got bigger I’d think, ‘Someday when he sits on my lap it will be for the last time.’ And one day it was.”
Sob!
I know exactly what you mean. I want to freeze time. The thought of my boys growing up, leaving and determining that I am not the most important woman in their lives is just killing me. I guess that’s why some people have lots of kids.
I know exactly what you mean. I want to freeze time. The thought of my boys growing up, leaving and determining that I am not the most important woman in their lives is just killing me. I guess that’s why some people have lots of kids.
I know. I know. I spend all day wishing away the terrible twos but I know I will miss them like crazy! Good luck with the bed thing.
Jen
I know. I know. I spend all day wishing away the terrible twos but I know I will miss them like crazy! Good luck with the bed thing.
Jen
It is why even with 5 I can’t say I will not have another baby. I am not ready to nurse, smell their head, watch them learn to crawl, hear first words all for the last time. I have to keep the posibility of another baby at least until I have grandkids!
It is why even with 5 I can’t say I will not have another baby. I am not ready to nurse, smell their head, watch them learn to crawl, hear first words all for the last time. I have to keep the posibility of another baby at least until I have grandkids!
Great post Dani! So well said. I went through this with John a year ago. Everything you say is so true. He was still in his crib at 3 1/3, and we were struggling to potty train him. So my therapist said, you must get him out of the crib before the baby comes. Get rid of the sippy cups (the high chair was gone already), get rid of the baby plates and silverware, get him into a bed, THEN potty train. We did all that, and within a week he potty trained himself.
It is so hard to let all the baby/preschool stuff go. I would freeze time too, if I could. *sniff*
Great post Dani! So well said. I went through this with John a year ago. Everything you say is so true. He was still in his crib at 3 1/3, and we were struggling to potty train him. So my therapist said, you must get him out of the crib before the baby comes. Get rid of the sippy cups (the high chair was gone already), get rid of the baby plates and silverware, get him into a bed, THEN potty train. We did all that, and within a week he potty trained himself.
It is so hard to let all the baby/preschool stuff go. I would freeze time too, if I could. *sniff*
Too busy sniffling to comment. A day after reading this.
Too busy sniffling to comment. A day after reading this.