Wednesday 28 August 2013

Don't Worry. It's A Stage.

Parenting can be a roller coaster of stress. It can be tiring. It can test every part of your character. Nothing more than it tests patience, patience, patience. But one thing that is helpful in pushing through the tough times is to remember that, for many situations, it is just a stage. This, too, shall pass. And the view post-trama tends to look less objectionable.

I remember the frustration of getting my daughter to sleep as a baby. I was so exhausted and second guessing my choices, wondering if another mother would have her in a routine quicker. But now I look back and that wearying time seems so very short, and I feel I could have enjoyed the closeness more (though I did develop the habit of her sleeping on me).

Today, she can usually sleep through the dog barking and mom and dad talking. Even if she struggles to fall asleep, she will no longer let me rock her, exclaiming, "No! Go sleep!" And sometimes I can't even sing to her anymore as she will form a duet and be distracted from the purpose. So, after a song I'm left to say goodnight and walk away. Helping her sleep was a bygone stage.

I washed the sheets three times in a week earlier this month because her diaper overflowed. The last time, I even changed her soggy bottom at 4 in the morning and it didn't stop the accident. And so we had to restrict her water. Turns out she is a night guzzler. With monitoring, she only had two small drinks at bedtime. No problem the next morning. This stage has passed!

Other stages take a little more time. Like throwing. It drives me crazy. As she launches her trajectory across the room she'll yell out, "Don't throw!" It is a never ending game of reminding and distracting. And sometimes dodging. But one day it will be over. One day it will finally make sense to her not to throw food or dishes barbarically when she's done eating. One day it will, too, be a memory. (Will I look back at that one with fond thoughts?)

The fear of bugs has come with severe intensity and gone again. Pinching thankfully came and went in a flash. Kicking was short lived as well. Wanting to eat only muffins made a bit of a worrisome presence.

And now we're at public temper tantrums, fighting diaper changes, and an incessant repetition of the question, "Where did Daddy go?" And dumping, dumping, dumping. Which isn't as much of an inconvenience until we try to eat somewhere other than home. How old is she allowed to play with food?

And my gorgeous, smart, precious darling will have new stages begin. Fear of the dark, maybe. Getting into different things, as gone are the toiletry experiments to be replaced by other discoveries. Creative ways to torment the dogs after all the rolling toys have been confiscated. Changes in preferences. But we will learn to work around or adapt to or avoid each quirk.

And then, it will pass.

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