If one more older
woman tells me to “better enjoy these days” while my kids are young, I may just
scream. What do you think I’m doing? Wishing it away? Not relishing every
single time my two year-old grabs me with his dimpled hand and looks up at me adoringly?
I know time is fleeting. Ten years ago I didn’t have any of these
responsibilities, joys, worries, and annoyances.
Yes, I did
just write that. Believe me, I adore my children with all of my soul. And I
already cry thinking of them fleeing the nest. I love parenthood, and being a
mother has fulfilled me in ways no other way can. But I am looking forward to the
day, (912 more), when all of my kids will be in school.
My point is
that it’s not all glory-filled. Will I miss elements of little kid-dom? Absolutely.
I also miss working full-time. College. Elements of high school. My own
childhood. The juicy, joyful nuggets throughout life’s stages make anyone wish
they could just go back. But it’s not like all of those years were perfect.
Some 70
year-old impressing on me to enjoy these years, almost as a warning, gets to
me. Maybe a proper response would be, “Yes, I hear you, but there are things I
won’t miss about now.” Perhaps she forgot about:
- Cleaning up explosive diarrhea while your kid wails because of diaper rash
- Vomit in crib crevices
- Constantly being needed for everything
- Whining
- Chauffeuring everywhere
- Toys scattered throughout the house
- Endless chatter when all you want is 15 minutes of quiet
- Breaking up sibling fights
- Complaints about what’s being served for dinner
- Stress about how your kids will turn out
- Being underappreciated
- Never being appreciated for all that you do, spend, teach, give up, and worry
I wonder--is it dementia or is it
easier/healthier to go through life only remembering the good elements?
I just read
an interview on Philly.com with John Oates regarding Hall and Oates’ induction
into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year. The interviewer was saying that,
unlike the 1980s, pop music now has a lot of “crap.” And John Oates replied, “Trust
me, it's always been crap on the radio (laughing). If anyone looks back to the
70s, 80s with nostalgic rosy colored glasses and goes 'well, everything was
awesome.' No, everything was not awesome! There was some awesome stuff, but a
lot of crap.”
Oates goes
on to say that it’s the good stuff that we remember. Maybe the now mustache-free
musician has a point. Maybe most people, as a way to accept our aging future,
as a way to feel good about the past, don pink shades and only think of the
highlights and simply forget the rest. But I tend to think that’s
short-sighted, (if we’re still going with the glasses metaphor).
Life’s
painful parts are etchings that shape who we are. Every wrinkle, both literal
and figurative, should be part of our life’s rewind reel. Why not? I’m not
saying I want to relive them—and I hope to be done with diaper rashes really
soon—but it’s important to recall that we’ve lived through “the crap,” even survived
it, and learned something along the way.
One of my
friends tells the story of how she threw her diaper pail out of her
second-story window to celebrate the end of her diaper changing years. She
rejoiced seeing it land on the curb. Maybe
we should all throw out the stinky garbage that comes with parenting, or
whatever stage we’re saying farewell to, and even cheer about “the crap.”
Some day
when I’m sitting on a bench, watching some mother with young kids, I will smile
at those awesome times I miss…the kids’ voices when they get off the bus, the
good night squeezes, the proud of themselves moments like hanging their own
hoodie on the little hook in the laundry room. And I think I will also breathe a long sigh and know that I deserve some
peace and quiet. I vow to put on my sunglasses, (not rose-tinted), and shut my
lips instead of telling her to enjoy these days. She probably is. And I bet she
has to hit the food store, make dinner, take a kid to gymnastics, and get the
gum out of her son’s hair. And oh, yeah, change her toddler’s stinky diaper. Because
in life there’s always crap.
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