Tuesday, March 15, 2011

done with diapers

It was 13 years, 2 months and 8 days with diapers (and/or "night-time protection").
Not one day without.
But as of 9 days ago we are officially

No more pampers, huggies, "pull-ups", "goodnites".

I feel like we should have a party or something.
Maybe we can with the money we'll save.
(especially here - those things are not cheap, let me tell you)

And, of course, being the sap that I am, I am doing just as much weeping (figurative only) as I am rejoicing.
I have rejoiced/weeped over having my baby start school.
I now rejoice/weep over my baby being dry 24/7.
(don't worry, she was day-time toilet trained a long time ago)
I am truly in a new era of life.

Last night, Lucy once again connived her way into our bed to sleep.
When I crawled in beside her, later that evening, I lay there, looking at my sweet angel.
(ah, how deceiving they look when they are asleep)
Naturally, as any mother with a heart (okay, okay, any mother as sappy as I am), I starting tearing up, seeing how big my baby is.

I think of all those ladies at Target who come up to you
when your baby is screaming,
or your toddler is throwing a tantrum,
or your 4-year-old is whining and begging for everything in sight,
and they say to you
"Treasure these moments.
They grow up so fast.
How I wish my kids were young again."
And you want to punch them in the nose.
But of course, they were right.

I leaned over, gently put my arm around her and pulled her close.
I wanted to snuggle with my growing-up baby.

"MOM! What are you doing?" she says, quite annoyed.
(insert sound of the record scratching, cars screeching, or whatever your fancy....
just something to imply the moment-ruining-back-to-reality situation)

So, no snuggling with my baby.
Fine, I can't sleep like that anyway.

So I just gaze at her and think that I have entered the golden years of parenting.

My kids are all old enough to be mostly independent.
They can, for the most part, get their own breakfast, snacks, etc.
They can brush their own hair.
They can go to the bathroom independently.
(uh, yah. Note that I said they "can" do all of these things.
I'm refusing to address "willingness" right now because I am being sappy and sentimental.)
They can read.
They can be reasoned with (yes, I'm pushing it with this one....)
Yet, they are not old enough to be completely annoyed with me.
They still like being around me.
They don't swear at me and only roll their eyes occasionally.
They aren't so caught up in their own lives, friends, activities that they don't have time for me.
(not that I think any of my children will ever, ever be this way..... definitely not)

I am happily stuck in the blessed years of "just enough" and "not too much" independence.
I lay there, so thankful.
Slowly I drift into grateful, peaceful slumber.

Three hours later I am rudely awakened by
"Mom, I had an accident".

Okay, so maybe I'm in the tarnished silver years instead.

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