you're still here
as the great 90s poet dave matthews said, celebrate we will for life is short but sweet for certain
the then times
In 2021-2022 I attempted a 100 day project of journaling daily while I was pregnant with second baby, and spending tons of unexpected time with my toddler. In January 2022, I was 7 months pregnant, and Charlie was 1 month shy of 3 years old. It was hell, and it was precious time I wished to preserve. I did a decent job of writing things down that were happy and writing things down that were very sad. Here’s days 50 to 53, and then I’ve got some rather uplifting thoughts from current me to share.
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50: 1/14/22
Just put on an episode of Daniel tiger for him to watch about how baby Margaret gets all the attention and Daniel is sad. And it’s making me cry. I tell him every night that he’s my favorite boy and I’m starting to have so many feelings about him sharing me with someone else and I hate it, it’s sad, it’s confusing.
52: 1/15/22
Bedtime tonight was an absolute horror. The moments are cute but the tantrums make one question one’s …I don’t even know. It’s an experience that is like out of body? From one minute or moment to the next I’m a zen parent and I’m regulated and the next I’m about to toss him to the wolves and scream bloody murder. I guess for me there’s not much more triggering than him screaming and me not being able to fix it? That seems like a dumb statement now I’ve written it, as if I’m the only one specifically triggered by toddler tantrums.
They do end, eventually and also, supposedly eventually, he’ll outgrow having them all together. And until then, we’ll forfeit having dinner together I guess, or relying on relaxing post-bedtime kid-free time. Part of Sara-in-5-years goals I suppose.
52: 1/16/22
Sleet and icy rainy day today and I think we all have cabin fever from quarantine and now terrible weather. I felt very detached today, from Charlie and everything. It’s hard to engage when I feel like this but I still tried intermittently to go all in for like 10 minutes at a time. In the moment it feels really difficult and looking back on the day I could feel guilty about unequal division of kid labors between me and Steven but I don’t. The day was actually good, for Charlie, so I know I did ok and I know Steven did ok and I know we’re all ok.
53: 1/17
We drove around today to pick up target order and lunch I had a moment of gratitude in the car - even though he was kicking my seat - for him doing a pretty good job entertaining himself in the car. He was talking to himself and narrating with his dinosaur and it was really funny and cute and I thought, ya know, we’re doing ok.
The bedtime debacle continues though and it’s really giving me heartburn. He needs to settle into the routine before the baby comes and I also need to let go of my anxiety about it I guess. We’ll see which happens first.
the now times: day who tf knows with 2 kids
We’re about to start with a new nanny and childcare situation next week. It’s exciting because I get to go from mostly 4 day work weeks, 4 days of childcare, to 5 full work days of childcare, plus we’re sharing with a neighbor and I think it’s going to be really fun for the boys to spend time outside the house with a friend. Also: cheaper!
I said before that I’m taking the last 2 weeks of august mostly off work so I can spend time with just Charlie, and pack as much fun and adventure into those 2 weeks as possible. I’m struck with how excited I am for it and how, once again, parenthood is so full of opposites. Simultaneous opposites. I am thrilled that we will get to do a bunch of fun stuff just the two of us. I am nervous about handling tantrums and conflict on my own. I am nervous about him being so tired from such amazing adventures and throwing bedtime off. I am nervous that what I’m planning will actually be “bad for him,” because we won’t have a regular routine, do the same thing every day, or see the same people/things daily. Like most toddlers and little kids, he thrives on a routine and when he knows what’s coming. And I’ll do my best to give him expectations, but routines are hard for me, and the nature of the adventures I want to take him on is that they are a bit anti-routine. I think I can probably (now that writing this has revealed this to me) come up with a way to make it routine-esque, while the activities themselves will be different day to day. Duh.
Anyway. It’s both, again. Excitement, nerves. Anxiety, glad anticipation of happy memories and time spent with a little boy I am coming to actually enjoy spending time with. At the end of the [amazing] days, I am sure I will be 100% over spending time with him and need a break.
I pulled up some more of the #100daysofSaraandCharlie to look at as I get ready to have this dedicated kid time, and it was even more striking. My inside feelings about him right now, lately, my anticipation for our days together. Coupled with the angst, anxiety, fear, desperation, and despair that leech from almost every word I wrote in January of 2022. Reading them for me puts me right back in that place, and I can feel the difference like, inside my body. It’s better. I absolutely still feel all of those hard feelings now, at times, but it’s refreshing, encouraging, and maybe a little bit gratifying to see that like yeah that phase is over. The despair is less overwhelming and terrifying, lasts for shorter periods of time I guess. We’re through it, the pregnant, desperate, tough toddler, transitional time. I made it. I lived through it. I got here. I am still here.
And like, not to be dramatic, but sometimes that’s the thing that needs to be celebrated. So I’m saying it explicitly, for me and for anyone else who might need to read it for your current self or past self: it’s ok if the thing you accomplished is simply that you made it here. That you’re still here.
I didn’t see that revelation coming, so I’m going to end here this week. Give yourself a hug, and listen to Lizzo “Special” and sing it to yourself. That’s your homework. kbye!
