Phases of Motherhood

Yesterday my sister-in-law and I were talking about our youngest children who will be starting kindergarten in the next year or two. Zuzu starts next year, and her youngest–a September birthday–will barely miss the cutoff and start the year after. She asked me if I ever take Zuzu to playgroups anymore and I said no, I don’t have the same need or desire to do that anymore and since she goes to preschool 3 days a week, I think she has plenty of social interaction. She said she took her daughter recently and as she watched these mothers with all their multiple young children clinging to them and asking for snacks and crying she thought, “How did I ever do that?” 

Like her, I have found myself having those same thoughts lately, as I see the mothers with a baby in one arm and a toddler at their feet crying because their toast was buttered the wrong way, and I too think “How did I ever do that?” It was not that long ago, in fact those memories feel so close I’m often chagrined that my kids can’t recall them at all because in my mind they just happened.

The question of “how did I ever do that?” applies in greatest measure when I think about the fact that we no longer have any daily nappers. My life revolved around naps for 11 years. I was not a mother who was chill about nap time. When other moms casually said, “She missed her nap today… oh well.” I’d look at them incredulously as if they had said, “She missed taking breaths today… oh well.” In my world nap time was never optional. NEVER. My children were were treated like the precarious packages of dynamite they were that would promptly explode if not gently laid to rest each and every day. Yes it was also my sanity that I was protecting as well–the daily break I enjoyed, nay NEEDED–because even as the other children out grew naps it was still quiet time for all living creatures who happened to be in my home during that treasured 1.5-2 hours. At the same time, it tugged on the frayed edges of my sanity to have life–and I mean LIFE–revolve around this magical, daily ritual.

Years ago I had a friend who had undergone cancer treatment in college and he was telling me about some of the procedures, medicine and side effects he endured during this time. After one specific proceedure he had to take a certain kind of medicine as an antidote for the side effect which was that his “guts would melt out of his insides” as he put it. He had to set alarms through out the day to take this medicine at very specific times to prevent the “gut-melting” and as someone who has been known to sleep through a wide array of alarm clocks in my life I said, “But what if you slept through it!? What would happen?” He looked at me and said, “You don’t sleep through the anti gut-melting medicine.” Oh my gosh… I felt like an idiot because RIGHT… You don’t sleep through that alarm.

To a much lesser degree but a similar intensity, that was how I felt about missing nap time. We just didn’t do it, because OH MY GOSH you idiots, there is too much on the line here. 

And I was well known for this napping intensity. We napped every day of the week. We napped while we walked if necessary. We napped at church. We napped on Disney cruises. We napped at the beach, or rather left the beach to go take said nap. We napped in cars, on trains and planes. There was not an event or a place we had to be that could not and would not be scheduled around the sacred nap time. Naps were my gospel and HALLELUJAH I believed! In the name of white noise and black out curtains, Amen. 

Naps. Trumped. Everything. And now they don’t. But when you spend 11 years with your life revolved around something as important as DON’T FORGET TO TAKE YOUR ANTI GUT-METLING MEDICINE, otherwise known as naptime to me, it might take a minute to readjust. To relax a little and realize that you lived through it and not one of your children imploded over the years all thanks to your dedication and committment. Well done me.

Of course that’s not the only phase we’ve moved past… no more diapers or play groups, we no longer have zoo and children’s museum memberships (although we might renew for the summer) and while I can’t say my kids don’t whine or beg for food anymore, the fervor of those things have dropped significantly. And I have to admit, I am shocked that we’ve moved past those things. It really did feel like it would be forever, and yet it really did pass in the blink of an eye.

So what phase are we in now? Well we’ve got a built in baby-sitter and an almost teen, but there are still fairy wings and baby dolls on hand. Playdates have morphed into hang outs, but crafting and slime making are still part of the landscape and probably will be for a long while. I still get daily hugs and I love you’s, but we can also watch Gilmore Girls together. I don’t have to worry about naps, but thinking about the my kids and technology and how to keep them safe keep me up at night.

I guess the questions I’m really asking were best asked and then answered by Stevie Nicks:

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Well I’ve been afraid of changing because I’ve build my life around you.
Time makes you bolder and even children get older and I’m getting older too.

It is a little scary to see them grow up, to see myself get older. Am I keeping up? Boo-boo’s and spilled milk were relatively easy fixes. And while the difficulties of mothering young children were real, there was so much to love about that phase as well. I will forever miss little toddler hands on my cheeks, milky breathed babies and their slobbery kisses. The nursing and finger holding, simple days spent at library storytimes followed by a playdate in the park.

Those were some good days, and to be honest I don’t get sentimental for them too often but here I am thinking about tantrums and naps with wonder and awe and a little pang in my chest. Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? I don’t really have a choice do I? Can I handle the seasons of my life? I think that’s what the medication’s for right?

What about you? What phase of mothering are you in and what surprises you most? Are you ready for the constant changes, or does it still feel like for-ev-er? Any other reformed nap-nazis recovering from nap time induced anxiety?