"It goes by so fast"...
I must have heard those 5 words a thousand times when I was in my twenties. As a young mother, I often found myself wrestling toddlers in a shopping cart muttering curse words under my breath. It was always at the height of my frustration that some moronic observer would stop and give me the look. You know the one. The one where would they cock their head and look at me as if they were envious and actually missing the days where they couldn't pick up six items from the store without breaking a sweat and vow to never leave the house with their children again. "It goes by so fast", they would say. Some even had the balls to tell me to "enjoy it" before they strolled leisurely away. I watched them walk away slowly, coffee in hand, and I hated them.
Oh how I hated them.
Because I had three kids, I had a toddler for what seemed like an eternity. The time, however, did pass. The toddlers grew up and not only did I not have to wrestle them to stay in the shopping cart, I didn't have to swat them in the ass if they touched something they weren't supposed to. The fruits of my labors were paying off and my children were...well good. Surrounding myself with other people's children always served as a reminder of just how good mine were. Our family had a rhythm and we were chugging right along. Life seemed to be a little more under control...I was able to breathe and I'm not going to lie. I liked it.
Oh how I liked it.
The day magically arrived where all the children were in school and alas, my life was my own again. Or so I thought. When I dreamt of having children, I envisioned my own mother, who made parenting look like a breeze. Cooking dinner, sitting next to me helping me with my homework, and on really good nights, tickling my back while she watched a show with me...one that I had chosen. When I reflect on my childhood, my mother seemed perfect and I seemed innocent and blissful, you know like an ACTUAL kid. I am not sure just when adults began hijacking their kids childhoods but it seems to be getting worse, not better. I didn't think it was even possible, but nothing surprises me anymore.
What do I mean? I am so glad you asked. I am talking about the 12 class parties a year that require parents to participate or volunteer or guilt them into feeling like crap if they can't attend. The dance classes that coordinate crazy hair day to pajama day to we don't care what your kid dresses like today so long as it it gives you an extra thing to worry about day. While parents once enjoyed a few months a year of cheering their kids on at their sporting events, we now have YEAR round ball and swim team. Why? Because someone can make money off of it and being the bleeding hearts we are, we won't tell our precious kiddo's no. It's a win/win. Except it's not. Not for our kids...and certainly not for us.
Having high schoolers has been a journey in and of itself. While less is required of us as parents, we now have the luxury of constant worry. Small children exhaust us physically and slowly morph into big children that exhaust us mentally. Car accidents, flat tires, an issue at school, forgotten gym clothes or a fight with a girlfriend. It doesn't matter. It is always something and lucky for cell phones, we are now just a phone call away. We can't get away. Ever.
What ever happened to figuring it the hell out on your own? That concept is about as foreign as black and white television and this generation of giant drooling babies is proof of how coddling isn't working.
When I pitched the idea of starting a family to my young husband (and pitch I did), I put a lot of emphasis on the fact that we would be young parents. We would start young, we would finish young, and we would be SO ahead of the game. Because I am relentless and repel the word no, my young husband got on board and off we went. I consider us to be a bit of an anomaly in this regard. We actually TRIED for each of our children and each pregnancy was quicker than the last. I think if we had gone for a fourth, we could have just looked at each other and conceived.
Anyways, you get my drift....
My point is this...(and you should consider yourself lucky because I often don't have one). I am coming to the conclusion that we aren't ever done...and it depresses the hell out of me. I've heard it said before but never in a way that resonated with me. I wish that just one of the old women that told me "it goes so fast" would have grabbed my face, looked me in the eyes, and said "it doesn't go fast enough". I wish one would have glanced at my precious cargo and told me "They will wreck your cars. They will drain your bank account. They will drive a wedge in your marriage and you will disagree with your spouse on what is right for each one of them. They will become their own individual people..and at times you might not even like who they are"... and they could have finished with these words.
"And you wouldn't trade it for anything". And they would have been right.
Most days I feel like I am crawling towards the finish line like something out of a zombie apocalypse movie. The truth is, there isn't a finish line...and THAT kind of wisdom would have been gold when I was struggling as a young mother. Honesty would have been so much more useful than some trite bullshit statement like "it goes so fast...enjoy it". No sane person enjoys wrestling a toddler in church. The only moms that enjoy field day are the ones ...ok, for the sake of not offending anyone, I'll leave this one alone. Let's just say that I volunteered for field day with my youngest many years ago and if someone had offered me the option to stay an hour longer or have my leg sawed off, I would have pulled up my pant leg and said have at it. And it doesn't end there, they grow up and we have no say in what path they choose. No one, I mean NO ONE, enjoys watching their adult children make mistakes. It's like being sucker punched and it's hard not to take it personally.
I have known friends to lose a child, literally. I have known friends to lose a child figuratively. Neither is easy. Even great kids have setbacks and because we love our kids, it sets us back...
Round and round we go... it's called life and while I can only speak on my own experiences, I want to be the old woman who spits out morsels of wisdom to those younger women. I have to believe we can be honest and remain positive at the same time.
I will turn 41 next week and surprisingly, I'm not dreading it. Forty was my year of reflection and if I had to sum up all I have learned in this past year, the only word that comes to mind is oops. I made a lot of mistakes and I learned in the process. Perhaps the single greatest thing I learned was that I don't know anything... and I believe that is the point. Life comes at us fast and there's hardly time to think. It has been my experience that regardless of how much we plan, we will all be blindsided at one time or another by something we could have never prepared for. In these times, the question isn't "was I prepared"? but rather "how solid am I and do I have good people around me"?
The answer for me has always been yes and I realize that I am crazy blessed in that regard.
I have sat in hospice with a dying mother, graveside at both of my parents, and at the bedside of one of my ailing children having no clue what the outcome would be. Those who loved me cracked jokes to help me get by... and get by I did. I laid on a stretcher and overheard ER doctors ask my husband if I had a living will. I have been on the outside looking in and in those moments, had no regrets. That, to me, is a good life.
No regrets. Isn't that the goal?
At 41, I am no longer striving for perfection. Perfection is a total myth and I prefer my raw and imperfect reality. I prefer that because I have created it and it's all mine. I have been blessed with pretty awesome kids. Don't be fooled by my griping about them...I adore them. I have a husband that loves me most of the time, and tolerates me the rest of the time...and I'm ok with that. We have a history that can't be touched by anyone else and that to me is gold. I have an army of girlfriends that most would kill for who would be here in a second if I just asked. I have my sense of humor...
And it has served me well.
Getting older has not been fun, not even a little. Things are happening to my body that no one ever warned me about. I don't like it....not one bit. That being said, I love my mind and the wisdom that has come from life experience more than I ever have before. I look at those younger then me who are trying to find their worth in their house, their cars, their kids...and I'm sad for them. Embarrassed is actually a better word. My only regret is that I had cared less what others thought when I was younger and utilized my twenties and thirties better in preparation for what lies ahead.
I feel strongly that the best days are ahead.
I am excited about the future. I am making peace with what has been and accepting those things that are out of my control. I am choosing to love better those who love me and appreciate what I have. I wish I could go back now to my twenty year old self and share with her all that I know now. Oh, who am I kidding? She wouldn't have listened and therein lies the cosmic joke. We don't think anything applies to us until it does and by then it's too late.
I look at friends of mine who figured this out a long time ago and sat patiently waiting for me to figure it out for myself. They are the ones who aren't trying to impress anyone. They are the ones who are genuinely happy and are genuinely happy for others. They keep life simple so they are not overwhelmed when mishaps occur. They don't argue. They are content. They are at peace. Their lives are set at a pace where they can actually enjoy them.
I want all of those things and unlike my twenty year old self, I'm willing to hear the words now "Enjoy it. It goes by so fast"...
Because it does.
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