I just had this powerful polar moment that I wanted to write about.
It’s naptime for both of my kiddos — my short window of daily FREEDOM.
I check my email and we’ve got one from the owner of the preschool Heath goes to outlining the weekly themes and things they’ll be teaching throughout the month of March.
They are learning about the solar system this week in honor of the upcoming full moon. They painted together a big representation of the solar system that was on display when I walked in to pick him up. He was so excited to point out to me all the things!
They are learning about fairy tales and leprechauns and they’re going to play telephone (something I would LOVE to be a fly on the wall to watch my baby do?!) the week of the 16th.
They’re going to learn about spring and the butterfly lifecycle (my dude is gonna be PUMPED about this!!!) and the seasons the week after that.
Ponds, wetlands, the critters that live there, the frog lifecycle the week after that.
I am SO glad I put him in preschool. I’m gonna tell a quick true story about how I mean well, but have poor execution when it comes to this stuff.
Heath went through this phase where he would pull the wagon on our walks (it was one of the old school ones and maybe all you parents out there know that the little wheels on the pavement are WAY LOUDER THAN YOU WOULD THINK) and I found this caterpillar way up the street, about as far as we would go on our walks AKA the turning around point. I thought, hey, let’s bring it home and put in a jar with some sticks and leaves and see if it’ll make a cocoon and turn into a butterfly.
So I pick it up, and then struggled to keep it on my hand.
Then it peed on me (they always do).
I put it into the wagon and immediately felt terrible because I don’t know what caterpillars must have for ears, but that VERY LOUD sound of the wagon wheels on the pavement probably fucked him RIGHT up.
He was curled up in a ball.
Since he weighed like nothing, he was bouncing around in that wagon as Heath pulled it along so I didn’t feel good about leaving him in there, and I picked him up again.
He peed on my hand once or twice more.
I dropped him more than once on the road, then I just felt all this guilt about what I had just drug him through. I mean he was happy to just be chillin’ in the grass way up the street, and now I put him through all this (very loud) stress. Bruised his squishy little body probably during the falls. I thought sticking him in a jar with unlimited food and a place to just wrap himself up in silk could do him some good.
But INSTEAD, I ended up giving up on the whole idea AT THE END OF MY OWN DRIVEWAY. I brought him all the way down the street just to eventually be like, eh, it was a fun idea but now I’m over it. Sorry buddy.
So back into the grass he went.
Hell, he was probably a moth.
Not that metamorphosis wouldn’t have been cool. But this is why I pay other people to bring the cool stuff to fruition because I’m just too squirrely.
BUT ANYWAY
I got onto Instagram for a minute and saw a post that brought me right back to reality. My head was all up in the clouds and I was smiling and thinking about how fucking CUTE it would be to see my kid learning about the planets and butterflies and spring things.
The post was saying that instead of us saying certain things to our kids, like grow up, stop crying, you’re fine, etc., we should say things like I know where you’re coming from, I see you’re upset, I’m right here when you need help. Because we shouldn’t expect someone who wasn’t alive just a few years ago to be able to understand logic and emotions and how they SHOULD be reacting to anything. All they can do is react the way that it all comes out for them. And how we should be there for them and guide them through it because today, these problems are little, and tomorrow, they could be big problems.
And that last part just hit home and made me cry immediately.
Because the thought of my babies going through some of the things that adults go through, that I’ve gone through, that we all will go through, is really upsetting. It brings me back to center REALLY quickly to think about stuff like that. I’d much rather them be upset about small stuff that one day they’ll learn is trivial.
It just sucks that you learn it’s trivial typically by going through things that are tougher.
I think I just came here to say, parenthood is a roller coaster of emotions, ALL THE TIME, and you have to constantly flip the switch somehow.
You have your own problems that get pushed around, you cry at random times, you have to try to put on a smile and look put together when it’s sometimes really hard to do that.
You have to hold your shit together while your little people lose theirs so you can be an example and a soother and uphold a Stepford wife level of patience.
Even though it’s really amazing to see them accomplish things on their own, it’s hard to notice all the ways in which they’re growing up, too.
You think, oh I can’t wait until they can sit up, til they can crawl, walk, talk, dress themselves, brush their own teeth, do things on their own — and then THEY DO and you realize, you’ve been training them not to need you.
In fact, your whole job as a parent is to effectively teach them how to function without you.
Sometimes I think about how I can’t wait for certain things to happen and then I think about that line above. I don’t have much time left being needed in this way, so I may as well just roll with it and savor it for this brief period of time that we’re in this phase of life. I don’t need the internet and the media and the mom groups or anyone else making me feel like there is a better way or a deadline or ONE right way to do it.
I’m saying all this and mine are only 2.5 years and 8 months old. I realize I have a world of emotions and experiences yet to go through. Sometimes moments hit me when I’m doing something with the baby that I suddenly remember doing with my older, and it makes me sad that I had forgotten doing it with him and it also seems so long ago.
But it makes me happy to remember it, too. I shed a lot of tears but man, I smile a lot too.
For instance, I remembered the other day how we used to play with the light switches. He’d carry around his little chair and scare the bejeezus out of us by climbing up on it and turning the lights on and off, on and off, on and off, over and over, in every room of the house.
I distinctly remember wanting to be past this phase, mostly because I didn’t want him to hurt himself by falling off that little chair, which he definitely did sometimes.
Now he turns the lights on and off for me when we enter and leave rooms and I love how helpful he is, but I miss watching him learn too. Even if it scared me.
Up and down, up and down, all day long, I swear it’s emotionally and mentally TAXING. I am exhausted by the time my husband gets home, probably because my brain has gone THROUGH IT by then.
I am an overthinker, Pisces, enneagram 2 ALL IN MY HEAD type of person.
In addition, I’m a MOM so my brain has a lot more to keep up with now. More emotions, more responsibilities, more love.
Those things pull us in so many different directions and drive our decisions and it’s just a crazy, beautiful, messy roller coaster with loopdeeloops, forward progress that also folds back on itself, slow climbs and fast-almost-flying moments, thrilling exhilaration and scary anxiety.
When they say, “don’t blink or you’ll miss it!” or “they grow up so fast!” they are NOT lying.
I’m trying to be more intentional about not wishing any of it away or for time to move any faster. Each phase is hard in its own way, but they have all been REALLY amazing too. This is the only time I will get to do these things, to hug them like this, hold them like this, care for them like this. One day they won’t even live under my roof anymore or want hugs so I’m going to take what I can right now until it all changes again.
Because just when you think it won’t change, it does.
And, you’ll miss it.
No matter all the loops and folds, the roller coaster still comes to its end. We have to appreciate each climb, loop, fold, valley all for making up such important parts of the ride. Even when it seems like it’s out of control, going too fast, scary AF —- it’s still on the rails.
Let’s have fun on this ride, k? Love and respect each other and our little people.
We only get to do life together once.
