“They grow up so fast!” From the moment you bring home your newborn baby, this is probably the most common refrain you hear. You hear it from strangers on the street, from family members, and from friends ahead of you on the journey. I remember hearing this so often, and thinking time and time again, how the comment was completely unhelpful. I remember wanting to scream back, “I get the years are short, but do you remember how long each day was?” “Do you remember what it was like to be up half the night, to have your toddler tantruming in the middle of the street with onlookers judging? Do you remember how your whole day revolved around basic survival: getting small children and babies to eat and sleep and poop?” But occasionally, when the refrain came from a middle- aged woman with a distant stare in her eyes, it would get me thinking. What was behind this stare? Was it grief? Regret? Sorrow? Was there something she was trying to tell me, something I could actually do differently despite how challenging it felt to just make it from morning to night?
Well here I am, nearly 15 years in to this journey, my oldest about to start high school, Maggie entering 7th grade as a full on pre-teen, and my youngest turning 9 by the end of the Summer. Everything they said would happen, has happened to me. Time actually flew. They really did grow up so fast.
And I find I am completely unable to stop myself from passing on this unhelpful refrain to strangers on the street. So, the question is, now that I know, a knowledge that can only be attained from having this actually happen to you, would I have done anything differently? Aside from just total solidarity that you are doing so much and you are doing it more amazingly than you even realize, is there any actual glint of wisdom I could offer to those of you on the other side? Anything I can offer you to sweeten your journey, even just a little?
As humans, we are often pulled into the past with guilt, regret, longing—or into the future with anxiety, stress or anticipation. The famous buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that the present is really all we have dominion over. As a parent, we are nearly constantly thinking about the past or the future. As a parent, there is ALWAYS something to worry about in the future. We worry about what preschool or kindergarten or high school they will go to, then we worry if they will make friends, or if they are being kind to the friends they have. Then there is the catastrophizing; where after a particularly bad moment with your child, you worry if they will ever be responsible, hold down a job, or settle down from the reactions and emotions of childhood. But really, just as the wise facilitator of my First Time Moms group once said: “If you like it, it will change; if you don’t like it, it will change.” If I could go back to these moments of worry or anxiety, and truly embrace the “this too shall pass,” mantra, perhaps I would have been a little more available to the present. Thich That Hanh’s goes on to say “if you take good care of the present moment, there’s no reason why you have to worry about the future because you know that the future will be made by the present.” When we apply this to parenting it makes perfect sense really. Every moment spent worrying about our child’s future, could better be spent connecting to them in the present, which in turn would more positively shape their future. Need a guide? Children live in the present moment and so all we have to do is follow them there…
The other thing that gets in the way of the present is the past. I have found parenting to be a a constant grief process. We are continually having to say goodbye to the baby or the child who was, who can now only be accessed through photos or videos. I think it is important at times to go through this grief process (denial, sorrow, bargaining even) in order to get to this last stage of acceptance. There will be things you miss about this baby or child of the past, but if you can remain open to the child of the present, they will constantly surprise and amaze you. As they grow, they become less of an extension of you, and you begin to see the child for who they are. And the things they are interested in, the things they are passionate about, and the things they are capable of, will astonish you.
Watching my daughter perform in her Spring Musical this year or my son deliver an excellent graduation speech were some of those moments where I had to stop and be truly thankful that they are growing into their own confident selves. My daughter likes to remind me that she is as old as she’s ever been, but as young as she ever will be again. If we get caught up in romanticizing the baby or child of the past, we miss the glorious child of the present. Who I promise, no matter how big they seem right now, will seem quite small when you look back on her from the future. So really, truly, try to enjoy each stage. I promise it won’t last. The train obsession, the LEGO fanaticism, the stuffed animal stage, the baking on the floor of your kitchen, the tutus and the unicorn leggings. Each stage is really only that, and if we try to remain as present as possible to each stage, perhaps we can more fully appreciate those moments, maybe we can even to learn to stop time.
Last, I would say, “Wave, don’t drown.” If there is anything I’ve learned along the journey of motherhood thus far, it is that trying to do everything on your own is probably not sustainable. “Wave, don’t drown,” is a common reprieve in Australia. Apparently it is counter intuitive to wave while drowning, and many people drown while standers-by have no idea they are in need of help. The person is so busy trying to keep their head above water-so focused on their own survival, they don’t realize that a simple wave could elicit help. Nothing describes my motherhood journey more accurately! I’ll never forget when my friend from college came to visit and watched me do the 3:30-6:00 hustle of school pickups, after school energy and making dinner and calmly suggested I get someone to come over during those hours to help. I had three little ones at the time and while it seemed obvious some support would be nice, I honestly just hadn’t thought of it before. I was just trying to keep my head above water. Soon I found a local highschooler to come over a few days after school each week, and have since found creative ways to ask and receive help. Sometimes it’s sitting down with my partner and re-dividing tasks amongst us, sometimes it’s getting support for my child who is going through a difficult patch, and sometimes it’s going back to my own therapy practice to make sure I can show up for my family in the most peaceful way possible. I think I could have realized this even earlier in my mothering, and I admire young moms who are getting the support they know they need in order to be the best versions of themselves for their families.
So here I am, a little older and a little wiser, hoping to embrace the lessons of being grateful and open to the present, and not afraid to continue to ask for help along the way.
First day of Kindergarten (9 months pregnant with Patrick) to 8th grade graduation