I am honored indeed to host Binky, of 24/7, today, as my guest poster. Binky was one of my very first reads, and I never, ever miss one of her posts. Someday I’ll be buying her novel, and I can’t wait.
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In celebration of our mutual status as mothers of three-year-old daughters and just-born boys, I am writing this guest post for Mrs. Chicken, who, at this very moment, might just have a few worries of her own about siblings, identities, the elusive nap, and the passage of time.
It used to be that The Boss didn’t want to grow up. On the day before her little brother emerged from the womb, my daughter of two and three quarters was documented as saying “it’s not fun being bigger and older.” She was adamant, secure in her status as my only, my baby. She was not ready to make room for a sibling when her own clumsy denial of “being bigger” took up so much space.
The adjustment has been a long line of intensity, but we are now three months in and beginning to turn a corner. That was what I realized this afternoon when I tucked The Boss into bed for a much needed nap (as in, she required the sleep and I was desperate for its byproducts of peace and quiet). I was halfway out the door when I heard a voice behind me.
“I hate being little!”
I laughed. I had to. The cry of pipsqueak outrage was so plaintive and pure that I couldn’t help going giddy at the sincerity of her transformation. No longer was my daughter struggling to remain something she was not. She was leaving babyhood to the wee diapered one as she embraced big girl status.
Is it possible that she’s finally realized this house of ours can accommodate two children and, more importantly, that her parents’ hearts can as well? I think so. But as I turned to her with a crook-necked half smile of the kind used by mothers when their desire to be sympathetic is overwhelmed by the mutual need for a nap , I saw that The Boss’s new consciousness had spawned another question. The look in her eyes said something like this: “Why, with all this space to grow, must I be confined to bed for a nap?”
I pulled the covers to her chin, folded over the top, and kissed her forehead. “You know, hon,” I hedged, backing up toward the door again, “you don’t have to grow up too fast.”
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
I have the same sorts of problems! One minute I think of my older two as big kids, then the next I see that they are still actually very little.
They do tend to grow up too fast. Enjoy the “little” stage it doesn’t last nearly long enough.
It amazes me how we find ourselves impatient for them to grow up one minute and wondering where our baby went the next.
My eldest boy loved being bigger. He is naturally bossy, opinionated and Lordly, so being big was no problem. My middle boy, however, hated his baby brother from day one. Usurper!
Then one day, I bought ice cream and cones as a treat for us all. While I was serving it, baby Max started to fret and squall so I sighed “I’m sorry, baby, you are just too little for ice cream. I will have to give your share to a Big Boy for now.” You should have seen my middle son swell with Big-Boyness! He said to the baby, “Yes, *I* am a Big Boy, but *You* are only little!” How he relished that ice cream!
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