“This too shall pass” has often been the duct tape keeping my sanity attached since I became a mom. The newborn habit of falling into an impenetrable sleep coma seconds before feeding time? Rusty sawblade teeth carving their way through tender gums? Overflowing diapers? Powerful obsessions over a certain furry red monster with grammar issues? Elmo too shall pass.
I figure I can survive just about any frustrating stage as long as it’s temporary. The catch in this lovely Zen mindfest is that my girls have started coordinating with each other so as to have two distinct and equally frustrating stages ready for me at all times. One will put up hours’ long fights at bedtime while the other takes up telling lies, then the first one will complement the lies with a slurry of back-talk as the second launches into three months of slow motion, which is overlapped with one’s potty-related relapse followed by the other’s sudden and absolute inability to hear words that come out of my mouth. Sure, each stage is temporary… but with parenting conundrums coupled up and strung along like this, my sanity is beginning to flap a little in the breeze.
Basically, survival is the new Zen around here. But fortunately for themselves, me, and everyone within yelling distance, the girls have their innate adorableness going for them. Sophie is still deliciously small, squinting up her marshmallow face to laugh and needing pre-nap snuggles in the rocking chair. Despite her gracefully long limbs, Natalie is still pure child, skipping between playground equipment and making sweet, fanciful stories out of Lego blocks. They still rely on me to read them poetry at bedtime, wash their mermaid hair in the bath, and reciprocate butterfly kisses. Some days, I think their continuous needing is going to earn me a VIP ticket to the loony bin—if the coordinated frustrating stages don’t accomplish it first, of course—but then I look into the bright eyes of the sticky, singing girl who weaseled her way onto my lap despite the computer in her way, and a whisper circulates from the back of my mind: “This too shall pass.” And I realize that as crazy as these small years make me, I’m in no hurry for them to be over.
Don’t wish them away, don’t look at them like they’re forever!
Oh, my gosh…I HEAR YOU! There are many days I tell them that it is a good thing that they do cute things every now and then, because there is a garbage can outside that is big enough for THREE. I love how my children surprise me. When I can’t get a sitter and I have to bring them to a meeting with me, I am amazed at how they can sit at their own table, entertain themselves, ORDER FOOD on their own…OMG! If they were like that all the time, I wouldn’t appreciate it. Elmo does pass by the way, but much slower than you might think. And as for not hearing the words that come out of your mouth? How do you combat THAT? I could use some advice, because apparently, getting louder is NOT the key.
Cuteness does tend to make all the other stuff go blurry in the background, dunnit?
Regarding your sanity flapping in the wind…cut it loose. It’s just slowing you down.
“Elmo too shall pass” – SO FUNNY! I don’t mind Elmo so much, but I have heard “Elmo’s Potty Time” on near constant rotation lately, and I am over it.
I need to adopt your motto. I get so caught up in the aggravation, I can’t remember that this stage won’t last forever. But I do love the moments of sweetness, the open armed hugs and unabashed kisses, that I know won’t last forever. Children! You want to enjoy them, but sometimes they make it awfully difficult!
I’m having a breather on the missing sanity (most days) now he is nine.
I think this is nature’s way of letting you get your second wind before the tentative tweeny stuff goes into hyper drive with the hormones and they really do send you round the twist.
I sort of wish he would stay this size forever.
Most days.
Apart from the last few.
Awesome: “survival is the new Zen around here…” and I’m with you in saying that while it’s crazy, I know it will be over before I’m ready for it to be over. I watch T.’s parents–and hear the stories they tell…and it seems as though all the best times were RIGHT NOW in the thick of family and small children.
Liz – If they were forever, I wouldn’t feel so guilty about queuing up a fifth Backyardigans episode and sneaking into the kitchen for cookies and solitude… alas. 🙂
Meg – No, getting louder is unfortunately not the key, but I might have to try the trash bin threat!
Q – Unless the background is a sofa covered in poop, of course.
Tom – So that’s the ticket to productivity, is it? And all this time, I thought that sanity was keeping me… well, sane. 🙂
SIDDL – Oh man. My girls already think they’re tweens. When real time catches up, they’ll either be the equivalent of fully functional adults or their mother will be taking an extended vacation to Iceland.
Christina – I wish we could just bottle up this time and take it in small doses when we have the time or experience to fully appreciate it. Barring that possibility, I’m hoping your new book will help put the tedious dailyness of life with little ones into a more glamorous perspective.
Oops, sorry for skipping over you, Sam – I love your last sentence: “Children! You want to enjoy them, but sometimes they make it awfully difficult!” Ain’t that the truth. You’d think they’d figure that out somewhere along the way…