As they get older, the crises are fewer, but they are more serious in nature. Think "teenager" and "crisis." (Please don't tell me specifically what comes to mind. I'm not ready for that. Having a five-year-old who loses his jacket on the playground every day is intense enough for me right now.)
When your children are smaller, the problems are usually minor (spilled Cheerios, wet library books, snotty noses, mushed banana), but they are NON-STOP. You are constantly scrambling.
My dad told me this as a consolation. And it was.
Life with small children is a life in CONSTANT CRISIS. (And most of those crises seem to involve liquid or semi-liquid substances. Think about it.) What hope it brings to my soul to know that non-stop-crisis-mode doesn't last forever. I'm not saying I'm looking forward to "teenager" plus "crisis." (Yikes!) But I do know that as my children become more physically independent and their fingers less sticky and their crises less wet, I find myself enjoying motherhood more.
I am easily overwhelmed, quick to lose my patience, and terrible at multi-tasking. I am not well-suited to the business of raising toddlers. But that business doesn't last forever.
It doesn't last forever!
It. Does. NOT. Last. Forever. Exclamation point.
(For reals!!)
Did you know that one day your son will be able to get himself dressed? No, I'm not kidding. You will be able to say, "[Insert name of your son], please go get dressed," and he will emerge from his room five minutes later...are you ready for this?...DRESSED! (60% of the time--no body's perfect.) Amazing!
Did you know that one day when your daughter is feeling hungry, you won't have to know anything about it because she will simply go to the fridge, select a yogurt, find a spoon, open the yogurt, eat the yogurt, and throw away the empty yogurt cup? All you might have to deal with is a dirty spoon. And when that son of yours is hungry, he'll simply go munch on an apple. And you'll hear nary a whine about being hungry.
Did you know that your son will finally learn to play by himself and will disappear into his room for an hour? An HOUR. That's sixty minutes. An entire hour during which you are not actively entertaining him. And neither is the TV.
Did you know that one day you may even have a daughter whose deepest love in life is to fold her clothes and put them away?
Did you know that after years of bedtime drama, the routine will be as simple as a book, a prayer, and a goodnight kiss. Got that? A book, a prayer, and a goodnight kiss. I am not joking, people!!
Did you know that one day your children will clear their dishes from the table after dinner? The very dishes that they helped set on the table before dinner? And that they themselves will wipe up the milk they spilled during dinner?
Did you know that at some point in the future both of your children will be basically trustworthy with safety scissors and washable markers? You may even be able to TAKE A NAP while your children are doing art projects (with safety scissors and washable markers).
And one day you will go to the store, and your child WILL NOT RUN AWAY in the parking lot. Can you imagine such a thing as that?
Oh, and get this. One day you will be able to reason with your children. Yes, you read that correctly. You will be able to use REASON! (Although reason may still need to be supplemented with fruit snacks.)
No, I am not describing a mystical fantasy land filled with hobbits, unicorns, and children who put on their own shoes. (Actually, the children who put on their own shoes part is REAL. They even put them on the right feet!) It's a real place, a beautiful place. And it's only a few short years, or even months (depending on your kids), away!
I am now going to break rank with every other mommy blogger and say, as I blaspheme, that
I do not want to freeze time.
Sure, I've had lots of moments when I thought I wanted to freeze time. I mean, Greg and I sure do make some super cute babies and toddlers. (Proof, proof, proof, proof.) Who wouldn't want to be surrounded by such adorableness? But if time actually had frozen, I would still be scraping petrified snot off of my pants. Look, my kids can now BLOW THEIR NOSES. It's a miracle! I don't want to go back. I love what I have--a sweet kindergartner and an eerily mature three-year-old--and I look forward to the miracles that await us in the future. (I've even heard a rumor that first-graders know how to zip up their own coats.) For me, motherhood gets better and better.
So bring it on.
***
P.S. I realize this all sounds like all I care about is whether or not my kids can pull up their own pants and wipe their own boogers. It also sounds like I would think having another baby or toddler in our home would be equivalent to a death sentence. I promise I mean neither of those things. I also promise to explain myself better, but I also promised myself I would take a shower before I pick up Mary. (It's one thing to look like you rolled out of bed when you drop your kid off at preschool. It's a different matter when you still look like you rolled out of bed three hours later.)
