Babies

Little Remi

There are no babies living in the house anymore. I turned my back and they were gone.

Once upon a time, I had three children under the age of four. My days in the Land of Baby and Toddler were passed by changing diapers, cutting grapes into quarters and listening to Elmo and the Wiggles battle it out for time share on our television. My closest ally was my blue diaper bag and before I could pull out of the garage, 6 buckles on three car seats required clicking. My sleep was perforated by hollers for dropped pacifiers, midnight ear infections and 4 a.m. wake ups. It was monotonous and thankless. I spent a good deal of time wishing for the kids to grow-up. And then it abruptly ceased and I was caught off guard and unprepared.

That's when I realized I had it all wrong. I believed having three children under the age of four granted me access to a very elite and privileged club - the club of misery, drudgery and complaints. I had inadvertently joined the "poor me" club when the whole time, there was an alternative in front of my eyes. It's called, "appreciate what you have."

Yes I was living a bit like Cinderella. Yes there was a gargantuan amount of thankless grunt work. Yes, there were diapers to be changed and hot dog skin that required peeling. Yes, I always had to have a bag of snack in my back pocket and a quiver full of tantrum-diffuser arrows. So what - I asked for this. I was adored by three beating hearts that were bursting with love for me day and night. Alas, in this fairy tale hindsight is crystal clear and I can now see that membership had its benefits and they were plentiful.

Little children give love and want love in an endless supply and demand fashion. There is always a surplus. They think when you sing them songs, your voice is lovely and ready for an RCA record deal.

Little children take what you tell them as gospel, restore wonder into your life, say it like it is. Amen.

Little Chad

They hold your hand in public, think your lap is a throne and that your company is the best game in town.

Little kids delight in life's simple pleasures - bubbles, back tickles, learning to whistle. They are okay with bumpy ponytails and mismatched clothing because how they look matters very little compared to how they feel.

Little children like your company no matter what. They say the funniest things without a hint of self-consciousness.

Little children miss you when they are not with you, and they stay little for a very little bit of time.

My children don't qualify as little anymore. Remi cares about her hair, cares about who she plays with in recess and won't hold my hand in the mall. Chad recently told me his bedtime doesn't need songs anymore. A simple kiss and goodnight are more than enough.  Eden doesn't need me to bang on the 57 of a bottle of Heinz ketchup to dress her fries. She dresses them herself. Sometimes they tie their own shoes or leave them unlaced - regardless, I'm not asked for an assist. I buckle no one into their car seats or boosters because there is only one left and its occupant is buckle-capable. No longer are their tantrums easily diverted with lollipops. Change is our constant and change is hard.

Little Eden

I have changed too. It isn't always easy or graceful. I try to stop everything when I am invited to play Power Rangers and My Little Pony. I do my best to take calls when the kids are not home. I hold a hand, hold a hug as long as possible whenever the offer is available. I ask questions like How? What? and Why? instead of Yes? or No? to keep them chatting with me. I'll risk wrenching my back out when I'm asked to, "Carry me mommy," even if the asker is almost 80 pounds. Most of all, I try to appreciate all the pleasure and the pain. 

Last year, after I off-loaded the details of a particularly horrible day with the kids, my mom said, "Honey, parenting is insanely hard work, punctuated by moments of joy. It's your job to appreciate all of it." I think I'll remind her of that the next time she fails to see the joy in my "fresh mouth" or appreciate my temporary moments of lost temper... Change is hard for all of us!