This has been the week of sorting photos. I went through the giant stack of pictures we developed before the holidays and got everything labeled and dated. It's a habit held over from the days before digital pictures when I would get the mystery envelope of prints from the developer and sit down with my calendar and try to remember when everything happened. I'm glad I did, because the first four years of Aden's life are a blur to me now without those photos, and the dates and reminders of where we were mean something to me. It's still nice to have information written out on the back of a photo, though, even if there are now high tech ways to figure some of that out.
We got our first digital camera when Mona was about eighteen months old. The best part about it to me has always been the ability to see right away if you got the shot you wanted, and to decide if it's even a picture you want to develop, or make multiples of. Not to mention the seemingly endless number of photos you can take to try and get the right shot. It's hard to explain the old limitations to my kids.
When I think back to using rolls of film, the main thing I remember is having to keep track of the countdown on the roll and having to be selective about what I could even take photos of. And seeing what pictures I actually got was always a surprise, but not one I would want to revisit. The quality of the photos, however, I still think was better with real film. There's a crispness to digital photos that can be great, but also somehow hard and flat. I'm sure that's not true of professional grade cameras, but there was a softness to the pictures of my old-fashioned point-and-shoot that's different from what I get with my digital version. Not enough to matter, but it's something I notice when I look back at Aden's baby pictures from before our jump to digital.
Another hold over from my regular film developing days is the boxes. Not every picture I got developed was something I wanted to put in an album, but I didn't necessarily want to throw them away, either, so I'd put the spares in a photo box. Even though I can now select what photos to develop, I don't always know until I really hold them in my hand what I think. I also like to have choices when I'm sorting and put things in an album that tell the right story. Sometimes that means some really nice pictures end up in the boxes, but that's okay. They are there if I ever want them.
I was good for several years about getting photos into albums. I have categories of albums, such as friends and family and the cottage. I tend to put big trips together into their own albums, so if I want to remember my visit to India, or Alaska, or my car trip out West with my best friend, I can find them. I sort pictures by what I think I might want to look for--such as photos from college, or Ian as a child.
For my children I have them sorted by kid and by age, and Quinn pointed out to me recently that he only goes up to age four, and Aden stopped aging apparently at nine. This bothered his own need for organization (not that that need extends to his bedroom floor, but that's a different post), and I decided if I didn't get them up to date soon it was going to be too hard to ever want to deal with, so Quinn helped me buckle down and get everything sorted.
My own space apart from the babble of the internet
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Fit to Be Tied
Quinn learned to tie his shoes on Wednesday. I tied the right one and he was able to copy that on the left. Here he is pointing out his freshly tied shoe that he did on his own.
I think many kids come to shoe tying late now that so many sneakers have a Velcro option. But Quinn's in first grade, and I didn't learn to tie my own shoes until that age, so maybe things haven't really changed all that much in the land of laces.
Another milestone. Another step away from me, now in neatly tied shoes I didn't help with. My baby boy is growing up. But not so much that as he concentrates on his laces he doesn't still need to recite, "Make two bunny ears, loop one around...."
(Just when you think you can't love them more than you already do, they make you want to laugh and cry at the same time.)
Another milestone. Another step away from me, now in neatly tied shoes I didn't help with. My baby boy is growing up. But not so much that as he concentrates on his laces he doesn't still need to recite, "Make two bunny ears, loop one around...."
(Just when you think you can't love them more than you already do, they make you want to laugh and cry at the same time.)
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Young Enough, Old Enough
From a parenting point of view, I feel as if my kids have hit a perfect point in their ages. My kids were so funny and adorable when they were little, and it was hard to imagine that anything ahead could be as fun. But as much as I miss the cuteness, and the baby hugs, I don't miss the amount of work. At eleven, nine, and six, my children are young enough to still be my sweet little kids, but old enough to really do things. It's great.
I noticed the shift over the winter when we went sledding. To be able to take the kids to the park and have them all drag their own sleds back up the hill was amazing. They can all put on their own boots, find their own mittens, and tell me when they are getting too cold. It was simply a nice outing where I could enjoy it as a member of the family, not the mom in charge of everything. I only had to be prepared to be in charge if necessary. Aden even made the hot chocolate when we got home.
I've thought a lot about this balance of my kids being young enough and old enough over the last few weekends. For both fun things and important things, it's made a huge difference in how I parent, live my life, and what all of us as a family are able to do.
On the last day of summer vacation I took the kids out to fly kites by the lake, and we had so much fun we did it again the following weekend during a kite festival. Until Labor Day weekend we owned one kite. Aden picked it out years ago, but it's been a hard thing to want to break out and play with because she needed help to make it fly, and her siblings were too young to do it with her but of course they wanted to. Flying a kite sounded fun in theory, but it was complicated back then.
I noticed the shift over the winter when we went sledding. To be able to take the kids to the park and have them all drag their own sleds back up the hill was amazing. They can all put on their own boots, find their own mittens, and tell me when they are getting too cold. It was simply a nice outing where I could enjoy it as a member of the family, not the mom in charge of everything. I only had to be prepared to be in charge if necessary. Aden even made the hot chocolate when we got home.
I've thought a lot about this balance of my kids being young enough and old enough over the last few weekends. For both fun things and important things, it's made a huge difference in how I parent, live my life, and what all of us as a family are able to do.
On the last day of summer vacation I took the kids out to fly kites by the lake, and we had so much fun we did it again the following weekend during a kite festival. Until Labor Day weekend we owned one kite. Aden picked it out years ago, but it's been a hard thing to want to break out and play with because she needed help to make it fly, and her siblings were too young to do it with her but of course they wanted to. Flying a kite sounded fun in theory, but it was complicated back then.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Quinn Can Bike
Quinn learned how to ride a bike last week. He did it with very little help and no training wheels.
He's six, and when I asked him recently on a nice day if he'd like to learn to ride a bike this summer he shrugged and said, "Okay." He's been reluctant to try in the past, but he's great on a scooter so I knew he'd have the balance for it.
The things Quinn is good at he is very good at. He reads at at least a sixth grade level, his geography is better than that of most adults I know (myself included some days), he's gotten off to a strong start on piano....
The things Quinn is good at he is very good at. He reads at at least a sixth grade level, his geography is better than that of most adults I know (myself included some days), he's gotten off to a strong start on piano....
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Days With My Little Guy (Babble)
School has finally let out for the summer here. In the last week
Aden’s class did their annual Cosmic Creation Opera on stage (my
daughter was a yellow blob this year–I’ve never been more proud). She
brought home lots of artwork and more paper in her tattered backpack
than I know what to do with. We gave Mona’s teacher a small gift and
some flowers because in the fall Mona will be moving on to first grade. In Montessori school you stay with one teacher for three years, so
moving on to a new classroom is a big deal. Mona’s nervous, but she’ll
be fine. She’ll have all summer to get used to the concept.
We’re ready for summer break. I know people periodically review the merits of year round schooling and say that summer vacation is outdated and in some ways detrimental, and in part I agree with the logic, but in my heart I favor the break. Maybe it’s because I’ve always lived in the midwest where the summer months feel so radically different from the rest, but the fall and winter schedules don’t work well when the daylight stretches on so long and everything about the world beckons you outside.
I’m a productive person, but I’m also a creative person, and I know the value of being able to lounge around in an unstructured environment. Long lazy days give you time to let ideas settle and shift around and become something new. I love my memories from my childhood of actually being bored over summer vacation. It was different from being bored now. As an adult I’m only bored when I’m stuck someplace I don’t want to be without a book or a sudoku puzzle, and it’s irritating because I know there are other things I could be getting done elsewhere. As a kid there was nothing else to get to or do. (Except clean my room or do something useful, but that doesn’t occur to a fifth grade solipsist.) Life, even at its best, is hard, so I want my kids to play while they can so they can look back on growing up in Milwaukee and say to themselves later, “Wasn’t that nice?”
I’m glad I don’t have to try and get everyone ready to leave the house so early in the morning for awhile. It will be nice to go to the zoo or a museum if we feel up to it, or just play catch in the field behind the house until the sun sets if we want to. There are concerts in the park to hear, ice cream trucks to chase, fireflies to capture, and puddles to stomp in. When we’ve had our fill, fall will come around and structure will start to look appealing again. But for now, despite the challenges ahead of working with all the kids home, I’m ready for summer.
The only real loss for me with this break is my time alone with Quinn. He’s been my constant companion, and even though the occasional tantrum at the violin store when I’m trying to work has made me doubt if having him with me all the time has been the right decision, I’m lucky to have had him to myself for so long.
Lately at the violin store Quinn has spent his time on the computer.
He plays the Fetch games on the PBSkids website while I rehair bows and
repair instruments. He has his own routine there at the store,
munching on goldfish crackers and playing with blocks. I don’t get to
interact with him much while I’m working, but it’s nice that he’s in the
same room.
I try whenever possible to take him out somewhere if I can. He knows
the natural history museum here very well. He likes to sit in the
butterfly room and hold out a tentative finger in the hopes a tiny
butterfly will land on it, but if one ever did I’m sure he’d freak out.
He tells me to hold out my finger too, and I’m supposed to catch a big
one. The one time I did he couldn’t wait for me to let it go.
But my favorite days are the ones where I don’t have any appointments at the store and we just come home after dropping off the girls at school. It’s quiet with just my little boy here. We go online and look at pictures of Jupiter and Neptune (the only planets with eyes, he tells me). He lays out toys on the floor and asks me to click on one, whatever that means. (About half the time I select something he tells me it’s “not availble.”) We snuggle. We read books. I’m not allowed to sing or play music, but he likes to put CDs in while I work in the kitchen. His favorite tune of the moment is ABC by the Jackson Five, and when his sisters aren’t home to complain we can just leave it on repeat for as long as he likes. He’s a good eater. He’ll help me make things for lunch like pasta salad that I know his siblings would never touch. I love my lunches at home with Quinn. He plays in the sandbox while I work on my own projects, and if he can sucker me into pushing him on the swing he will happily swing back and forth forever.
Most mornings at home we spend a lot of time going around the block. I bring a plastic bag with me and pick up trash to keep myself occupied. (Why don’t smokers think tossing cigarette butts on the ground is littering?) Quinn just pedals away on his trike, the happiest little boy you ever saw. He collects important leaves and sticks and puts them in the little compartment under the seat.
He’s a sweet little guy, but particularly when it’s just the two of us. I feel so privileged to get to see a side of him that is just for me. Quinn has spent all but a total of a couple of weeks of his life at my side. He still sometimes crawls into my bed at night and snuggles up. When he needs a nap he climbs into my arms. I like being his home base. When he wants to hold my hand he grabs onto just my pinky. He’s gentle and dear and when he laughs I feel like in that moment I understand something important about life and that it’s wonderful. His smile makes me melt every time.
I don’t mean to make it sound like there aren’t moments he makes me nuts. There are too many mornings where we’d all be better off if I could let him sleep in so he wouldn’t be cranky, but I’ve had to drag him out of bed to get his sisters to school. Most days he adapts fine, but on the days he doesn’t he’s made trying to get any work done at the violin store impossible. I’ve had to turn away business just because a lunchtime appointment when I run out of food for Quinn at the store is too frustrating to deal with. But on the whole Quinn is a remarkably easy kid. Way better behaved than the average child, so when he does have an outburst I have to remember he’s just acting his true age. And three is cute cute cute, but really difficult at times. There is nothing quite like the petulance of a three year old who hits a combination of hungry and tired that is beyond all reason. But he won’t be three for much longer, and I try every day to appreciate the sweetness of this age.
He’s taller and leaner than he was when his dad left. He still has baby fat in his cheeks, but nowhere else. I can learn to share him when Ian gets back from Iraq, but I’ve enjoyed having my little guy to myself. I try to picture him as a man one day, maybe able to lift me in his arms the way I currently lift him. It’s hard to imagine him heading off into the world without me, but if I do my job right that’s where we’re headed. This chapter of our lives where it’s just the two of us together most of the day is over beginning with this summer vacation. He runs off to join his sisters’ games each morning, and in the fall he starts school. I already miss him.
We’re ready for summer break. I know people periodically review the merits of year round schooling and say that summer vacation is outdated and in some ways detrimental, and in part I agree with the logic, but in my heart I favor the break. Maybe it’s because I’ve always lived in the midwest where the summer months feel so radically different from the rest, but the fall and winter schedules don’t work well when the daylight stretches on so long and everything about the world beckons you outside.
I’m a productive person, but I’m also a creative person, and I know the value of being able to lounge around in an unstructured environment. Long lazy days give you time to let ideas settle and shift around and become something new. I love my memories from my childhood of actually being bored over summer vacation. It was different from being bored now. As an adult I’m only bored when I’m stuck someplace I don’t want to be without a book or a sudoku puzzle, and it’s irritating because I know there are other things I could be getting done elsewhere. As a kid there was nothing else to get to or do. (Except clean my room or do something useful, but that doesn’t occur to a fifth grade solipsist.) Life, even at its best, is hard, so I want my kids to play while they can so they can look back on growing up in Milwaukee and say to themselves later, “Wasn’t that nice?”
I’m glad I don’t have to try and get everyone ready to leave the house so early in the morning for awhile. It will be nice to go to the zoo or a museum if we feel up to it, or just play catch in the field behind the house until the sun sets if we want to. There are concerts in the park to hear, ice cream trucks to chase, fireflies to capture, and puddles to stomp in. When we’ve had our fill, fall will come around and structure will start to look appealing again. But for now, despite the challenges ahead of working with all the kids home, I’m ready for summer.
The only real loss for me with this break is my time alone with Quinn. He’s been my constant companion, and even though the occasional tantrum at the violin store when I’m trying to work has made me doubt if having him with me all the time has been the right decision, I’m lucky to have had him to myself for so long.
But my favorite days are the ones where I don’t have any appointments at the store and we just come home after dropping off the girls at school. It’s quiet with just my little boy here. We go online and look at pictures of Jupiter and Neptune (the only planets with eyes, he tells me). He lays out toys on the floor and asks me to click on one, whatever that means. (About half the time I select something he tells me it’s “not availble.”) We snuggle. We read books. I’m not allowed to sing or play music, but he likes to put CDs in while I work in the kitchen. His favorite tune of the moment is ABC by the Jackson Five, and when his sisters aren’t home to complain we can just leave it on repeat for as long as he likes. He’s a good eater. He’ll help me make things for lunch like pasta salad that I know his siblings would never touch. I love my lunches at home with Quinn. He plays in the sandbox while I work on my own projects, and if he can sucker me into pushing him on the swing he will happily swing back and forth forever.
Most mornings at home we spend a lot of time going around the block. I bring a plastic bag with me and pick up trash to keep myself occupied. (Why don’t smokers think tossing cigarette butts on the ground is littering?) Quinn just pedals away on his trike, the happiest little boy you ever saw. He collects important leaves and sticks and puts them in the little compartment under the seat.
He’s a sweet little guy, but particularly when it’s just the two of us. I feel so privileged to get to see a side of him that is just for me. Quinn has spent all but a total of a couple of weeks of his life at my side. He still sometimes crawls into my bed at night and snuggles up. When he needs a nap he climbs into my arms. I like being his home base. When he wants to hold my hand he grabs onto just my pinky. He’s gentle and dear and when he laughs I feel like in that moment I understand something important about life and that it’s wonderful. His smile makes me melt every time.
I don’t mean to make it sound like there aren’t moments he makes me nuts. There are too many mornings where we’d all be better off if I could let him sleep in so he wouldn’t be cranky, but I’ve had to drag him out of bed to get his sisters to school. Most days he adapts fine, but on the days he doesn’t he’s made trying to get any work done at the violin store impossible. I’ve had to turn away business just because a lunchtime appointment when I run out of food for Quinn at the store is too frustrating to deal with. But on the whole Quinn is a remarkably easy kid. Way better behaved than the average child, so when he does have an outburst I have to remember he’s just acting his true age. And three is cute cute cute, but really difficult at times. There is nothing quite like the petulance of a three year old who hits a combination of hungry and tired that is beyond all reason. But he won’t be three for much longer, and I try every day to appreciate the sweetness of this age.
He’s taller and leaner than he was when his dad left. He still has baby fat in his cheeks, but nowhere else. I can learn to share him when Ian gets back from Iraq, but I’ve enjoyed having my little guy to myself. I try to picture him as a man one day, maybe able to lift me in his arms the way I currently lift him. It’s hard to imagine him heading off into the world without me, but if I do my job right that’s where we’re headed. This chapter of our lives where it’s just the two of us together most of the day is over beginning with this summer vacation. He runs off to join his sisters’ games each morning, and in the fall he starts school. I already miss him.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
It Gets Easier (Babble)
I’ve had a little time to read through a lot of excellent mommy blogs
lately, and I have stumbled into several by moms with babies or
toddlers who just sound swamped. The baby years are cute, but really
exhausting. I wasn’t much of a baby person until I had my own, and I
loved the newborn phase, and the rolling phase, and the crawling and the
new words…. But I’m finally glad to be moving beyond all of that. For
awhile I kind of wanted one more, because the kids I have are so
amazing I’d be curious who else we could make. Then I remember how much
work it is, and I know I don’t want to revisit that.
But it got me thinking that some of these new moms could use some lights at the ends of various tunnels, and I want them to know that (barring unusual circumstances which can happen to anyone) it does get easier. It really does, and here are some things to look forward to:
One day, diapers are over. We still deal with goodnites for overnight accidents in our house, but I haven’t changed a diaper in a long time. I didn’t mind it when I was doing it, but not to be chained to a diaper bag anymore is heaven. It’s hard to remember the tyranny of diapers once you get past it, but I’m past it and I’m glad. Every time my son runs off to the bathroom to pee on his own I smile and appreciate how awesome that is. No matter what stage your kid is in with this, someday it will be done. And it’s great.
At some point you’ll realize they dress themselves. This one snuck up on me because I don’t think for most kids this happens all at once. Some pieces of clothing are easier than others, so maybe they can do shirts but still need help with socks, etc., but at some point they can do it all. I remember back when Quinn was only a few months old I got really frustrated about just how long it was taking the four of us to get out of the house for a particular event, and then it hit me that it was the clothes. I had to put every piece of clothing on everyone (and then take a bunch of it off again to change a diaper or help someone use the bathroom), plus all the winter clothes on top of those. I realized that if I simply dressed and redressed myself four times in a row it would take forever. The time you save by not dressing the kids is fantastic. That time gets sucked up by something else, but I love that other than Quinn’s pants and some zippers here and there, I no longer help with clothes.
(Of course, kids dressing themselves comes with their choosing what to wear which has its ups and downs. Mona thinks layering means putting on a pair of shorts over her jeans, and on the coldest day of the year she is guaranteed to come down to breakfast in a tank top, but I tend to think of it as a weird added bonus peek into her peronality. I know some moms for whom coordinating clothes within an outfit on their kids is important to them, and those kids do look ready for picture day at a moment’s notice, but I’m not one of those moms. I barely know how to dress myself so I have no business dictating a sense of style to my kids. As long as they don’t get frostbite or heatstroke I’m usually fine with whatever they pick.)
In the car, at least, the bigger the kids are the less room they take up. I resented having to buy a minivan when we had our third child simply because we couldn’t fit three car seats in the back of the regular car. It seems insane to me that when my kids are teenagers we will all be able to get into the smaller car, but while they are little we need the van. Aden can already get away with not using a booster from time to time, and I can’t wait to be free of bulky car seats all around. In the meantime, kids buckling themselves is worth doing a happy dance over.
Eventually they can use words to tell you what’s wrong.
One day they offer to help and it’s actually helpful.
I just gave our stroller away. I thought I’d miss it and I was WRONG.
They don’t need me to operate the DVD player anymore.
At some point you get to sleep again. Not as well as you maybe once did, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re operating in zombie mode all the time. Sleep makes a huge difference. It will come.
Their needs don’t change on a weekly basis. Part of the reason there is so much clutter that first year is things like a bouncy seat are great–for two months. Then it’s just there taking up space. There are baby things you maybe use once, some things never, but you don’t know what will work or what they’ll like, so for a long time there is a brightly colored mess of baby things everywhere. It gets replaced by a different kind of mess, but at least one that most kids are capable of picking up themselves if you are willing to nag.
I like that we don’t have to weigh the kids every month and measure their heads or think so hard about new foods. Kids still change quickly after the baby stages, just not at the lightning pace that is all consuming when they’re tiny. It’s a relief when what they wore and ate today wasn’t any different from what they wore and ate last month.
And finally, you don’t have to stare at them every minute. This is huge. My kids were the sweetest, easiest babies, and they slept well and seldom cried and had no trouble nursing and they were STILL exhausting. I can’t imagine how people survive babies with colic or kids with special needs to compound the worry. Just being responsible for a tiny person all the time is enough to fry your brain some days. My kids are finally at ages where they don’t need me for everything. I can tell I’m overdue to make a meal when I hear chairs scraping around in the kitchen as Aden and Mona get peanut butter from the upper cabinets themselves. Quinn feeds himself yogurt on his own some mornings if he’s up before I am, and half the time even remembers to throw the little container away when he’s finished. I like it when they are self-sufficient that way instead of running to me for something all the time.
There was a moment a month or so before Ian shipped out when I realized this deployment was likely going to be easier than the last one simply because the kids were older. He was away on an extended Army training weekend and I had the kids to myself and looked at it as a sort of mini dry run. We went to Target on a Saturday afternoon to pick up some basic things and wound up eating lunch there. Right after our food was served Mona announced she had to use the bathroom, and for the first time I realized Aden was old enough to take her sister there. It was just around the corner, no big deal. They held hands, happily walked off to the bathroom, and returned a minute later. It was like a miracle had happened.
Last deployment, when the girls were smaller and Quinn was a baby, trying to use the bathroom while eating out was impossible. If any of us had to go, we all had to go. I never knew if we should abandon all of our food and hope no one tampered with it while we were gone, or try to scarf it down and then go to the bathroom or what. It was one of the many reasons we usually just stayed home. But now Aden and Mona can go together and I can sit with Quinn by the food, or if Quinn needs to go the girls can stay at the table and I can take him.
It’s been life changing. I used to think of small babies as pretty portable, but walking potty trained young people are even easier most days, and it vastly expands our options for getting out. When we go sledding they can drag the sleds back up the hills themselves. Aden can take a shower and Mona can run her own bath. They still need me for a million things, which is fine, but to not have to attend to every little thing every second is a relief.
My most most dramatic example of how their growing up has been helpful came about a week ago. An hour before I was supposed to leave for a rehearsal I started getting sick. My head hurt, I was freezing, and I just needed to crawl into bed. I cancelled the sitter and tried to figure out what to do. The kids were only about an hour from going to bed, so I decided to put Aden in charge. I gathered all the kids around and explained that since Aden could tell time, she was going to announce when they should all brush teeth and climb in bed. No one was to argue with her because I was putting her in charge. I asked Mona to repeat back what I’d said and she answered, “Brush teeth and go to bed now!” No, no, listen again. I explained it two more times before Mona finally heard what I was saying. Then she asked if Aden could also read her a story, and Aden said she’d be happy to.
I took some ibuprofen, crawled into bed under many many blankets and listened to the sounds in the house while my head pounded. I fully expected to hear some kind of fussing or problem that would require my attention but none came. I assumed at some point someone would open my door, even if it was just Quinn coming to sleep in my bed, but no one did that either. There was happy playing and running around, and eventually there was silence.
I got up around 8:30 to use the bathroom and have a look around. Plenty of evidence that they’d brushed their teeth. They’d cleared a path to the stairs like I’d asked so I wouldn’t trip on any toys in the dark. They were all tucked into their beds, soundly sleeping. Even Quinn, who normally sleeps with me, let Aden put him into his own bed so I could have a break. I was so proud of them I can’t even tell you. Getting sick the last time Ian was gone was a nightmare because there is no leaving a baby or a toddler in charge of itself. I just suffered through it and stayed sicker longer due to the strain.
I woke up the next morning feeling fine, and they brought me a surprise breakfast in bed. I’d heard Aden tell her sister to keep me distracted so I wouldn’t hear what was going on, so when Aden and Quinn went down to the kitchen, Mona came into my room and just started singing. It was hilarious and sweet and I don’t think I’ve ever loved my kids more. They made me a bowl of cereal and two toasted pop tarts and a glass of water. I’ve never tasted anything better.
So yes, the baby and toddler years are tough. Hang in there. Your reward in the not too distant future will be singing and kind gestures and maybe even some desperately needed down time. Even at this stage for me there are still challenges and rough days, but it could be so much harder. I could be the one in Iraq missing all of this. I do my best to appreciate it for both of us.
(Quinn, Mona and Aden in hats made for them by my cousin Liza)
But it got me thinking that some of these new moms could use some lights at the ends of various tunnels, and I want them to know that (barring unusual circumstances which can happen to anyone) it does get easier. It really does, and here are some things to look forward to:
One day, diapers are over. We still deal with goodnites for overnight accidents in our house, but I haven’t changed a diaper in a long time. I didn’t mind it when I was doing it, but not to be chained to a diaper bag anymore is heaven. It’s hard to remember the tyranny of diapers once you get past it, but I’m past it and I’m glad. Every time my son runs off to the bathroom to pee on his own I smile and appreciate how awesome that is. No matter what stage your kid is in with this, someday it will be done. And it’s great.
At some point you’ll realize they dress themselves. This one snuck up on me because I don’t think for most kids this happens all at once. Some pieces of clothing are easier than others, so maybe they can do shirts but still need help with socks, etc., but at some point they can do it all. I remember back when Quinn was only a few months old I got really frustrated about just how long it was taking the four of us to get out of the house for a particular event, and then it hit me that it was the clothes. I had to put every piece of clothing on everyone (and then take a bunch of it off again to change a diaper or help someone use the bathroom), plus all the winter clothes on top of those. I realized that if I simply dressed and redressed myself four times in a row it would take forever. The time you save by not dressing the kids is fantastic. That time gets sucked up by something else, but I love that other than Quinn’s pants and some zippers here and there, I no longer help with clothes.
(Of course, kids dressing themselves comes with their choosing what to wear which has its ups and downs. Mona thinks layering means putting on a pair of shorts over her jeans, and on the coldest day of the year she is guaranteed to come down to breakfast in a tank top, but I tend to think of it as a weird added bonus peek into her peronality. I know some moms for whom coordinating clothes within an outfit on their kids is important to them, and those kids do look ready for picture day at a moment’s notice, but I’m not one of those moms. I barely know how to dress myself so I have no business dictating a sense of style to my kids. As long as they don’t get frostbite or heatstroke I’m usually fine with whatever they pick.)
In the car, at least, the bigger the kids are the less room they take up. I resented having to buy a minivan when we had our third child simply because we couldn’t fit three car seats in the back of the regular car. It seems insane to me that when my kids are teenagers we will all be able to get into the smaller car, but while they are little we need the van. Aden can already get away with not using a booster from time to time, and I can’t wait to be free of bulky car seats all around. In the meantime, kids buckling themselves is worth doing a happy dance over.
Eventually they can use words to tell you what’s wrong.
One day they offer to help and it’s actually helpful.
I just gave our stroller away. I thought I’d miss it and I was WRONG.
They don’t need me to operate the DVD player anymore.
At some point you get to sleep again. Not as well as you maybe once did, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re operating in zombie mode all the time. Sleep makes a huge difference. It will come.
Their needs don’t change on a weekly basis. Part of the reason there is so much clutter that first year is things like a bouncy seat are great–for two months. Then it’s just there taking up space. There are baby things you maybe use once, some things never, but you don’t know what will work or what they’ll like, so for a long time there is a brightly colored mess of baby things everywhere. It gets replaced by a different kind of mess, but at least one that most kids are capable of picking up themselves if you are willing to nag.
I like that we don’t have to weigh the kids every month and measure their heads or think so hard about new foods. Kids still change quickly after the baby stages, just not at the lightning pace that is all consuming when they’re tiny. It’s a relief when what they wore and ate today wasn’t any different from what they wore and ate last month.
And finally, you don’t have to stare at them every minute. This is huge. My kids were the sweetest, easiest babies, and they slept well and seldom cried and had no trouble nursing and they were STILL exhausting. I can’t imagine how people survive babies with colic or kids with special needs to compound the worry. Just being responsible for a tiny person all the time is enough to fry your brain some days. My kids are finally at ages where they don’t need me for everything. I can tell I’m overdue to make a meal when I hear chairs scraping around in the kitchen as Aden and Mona get peanut butter from the upper cabinets themselves. Quinn feeds himself yogurt on his own some mornings if he’s up before I am, and half the time even remembers to throw the little container away when he’s finished. I like it when they are self-sufficient that way instead of running to me for something all the time.
There was a moment a month or so before Ian shipped out when I realized this deployment was likely going to be easier than the last one simply because the kids were older. He was away on an extended Army training weekend and I had the kids to myself and looked at it as a sort of mini dry run. We went to Target on a Saturday afternoon to pick up some basic things and wound up eating lunch there. Right after our food was served Mona announced she had to use the bathroom, and for the first time I realized Aden was old enough to take her sister there. It was just around the corner, no big deal. They held hands, happily walked off to the bathroom, and returned a minute later. It was like a miracle had happened.
Last deployment, when the girls were smaller and Quinn was a baby, trying to use the bathroom while eating out was impossible. If any of us had to go, we all had to go. I never knew if we should abandon all of our food and hope no one tampered with it while we were gone, or try to scarf it down and then go to the bathroom or what. It was one of the many reasons we usually just stayed home. But now Aden and Mona can go together and I can sit with Quinn by the food, or if Quinn needs to go the girls can stay at the table and I can take him.
It’s been life changing. I used to think of small babies as pretty portable, but walking potty trained young people are even easier most days, and it vastly expands our options for getting out. When we go sledding they can drag the sleds back up the hills themselves. Aden can take a shower and Mona can run her own bath. They still need me for a million things, which is fine, but to not have to attend to every little thing every second is a relief.
My most most dramatic example of how their growing up has been helpful came about a week ago. An hour before I was supposed to leave for a rehearsal I started getting sick. My head hurt, I was freezing, and I just needed to crawl into bed. I cancelled the sitter and tried to figure out what to do. The kids were only about an hour from going to bed, so I decided to put Aden in charge. I gathered all the kids around and explained that since Aden could tell time, she was going to announce when they should all brush teeth and climb in bed. No one was to argue with her because I was putting her in charge. I asked Mona to repeat back what I’d said and she answered, “Brush teeth and go to bed now!” No, no, listen again. I explained it two more times before Mona finally heard what I was saying. Then she asked if Aden could also read her a story, and Aden said she’d be happy to.
I took some ibuprofen, crawled into bed under many many blankets and listened to the sounds in the house while my head pounded. I fully expected to hear some kind of fussing or problem that would require my attention but none came. I assumed at some point someone would open my door, even if it was just Quinn coming to sleep in my bed, but no one did that either. There was happy playing and running around, and eventually there was silence.
I got up around 8:30 to use the bathroom and have a look around. Plenty of evidence that they’d brushed their teeth. They’d cleared a path to the stairs like I’d asked so I wouldn’t trip on any toys in the dark. They were all tucked into their beds, soundly sleeping. Even Quinn, who normally sleeps with me, let Aden put him into his own bed so I could have a break. I was so proud of them I can’t even tell you. Getting sick the last time Ian was gone was a nightmare because there is no leaving a baby or a toddler in charge of itself. I just suffered through it and stayed sicker longer due to the strain.
I woke up the next morning feeling fine, and they brought me a surprise breakfast in bed. I’d heard Aden tell her sister to keep me distracted so I wouldn’t hear what was going on, so when Aden and Quinn went down to the kitchen, Mona came into my room and just started singing. It was hilarious and sweet and I don’t think I’ve ever loved my kids more. They made me a bowl of cereal and two toasted pop tarts and a glass of water. I’ve never tasted anything better.
So yes, the baby and toddler years are tough. Hang in there. Your reward in the not too distant future will be singing and kind gestures and maybe even some desperately needed down time. Even at this stage for me there are still challenges and rough days, but it could be so much harder. I could be the one in Iraq missing all of this. I do my best to appreciate it for both of us.
(Quinn, Mona and Aden in hats made for them by my cousin Liza)
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