Not long after giving birth to Clara, I remember reading somewhere that in motherhood, the days are long but the years are short. Looking back on her almost twenty-nine months of life, I can honestly say that truer words have never been spoken. I honestly can’t believe that I have an almost two-and-a-half year old and we’re mere weeks away from welcoming her brother or sister into our family. Sometimes, late at night, I flip through pictures of when Clara was an infant. The day she was born seems like it was yesterday but simultaneously decades ago. How is that possible? In those moments, her squishy little face stares back at me as if to challenge me to find the features that have stayed true. Her eyes are brown now, her hair is finally starting to grow, and her face has thinned out. Her nose though? That’s exactly the same as the minute she entered this world. A perfectly symmetrical little button in the center of her face, all her own. I can’t help but share the image that comes to mind as I write this:
It’s hard to remember the details of those early days of my first maternity leave. I remember it being hard because every day was something new, something yet to be discovered, conquered, or learned. The days were long, trying to time feedings and sleep, wondering if I would get to shower, hoping that if she stirred in her swing, she would nod back off instead of the dreaded crying infant. Nursing was hard, and then it became normal, and then it became impossible after going back to work. There were things I was sure I would do, like breastfeed for a full year, that simply couldn’t happen. There were things I swore I would never do, like use an app on my phone to calm my crying baby, that became a daily occurance. And you know what they call it when that happens? They call it parenting. Navigating the long days just to turn around and realize that your baby is turning one, and then two, and soon enough, three.
But those long days of infancy? You guessed it, they’re still just as long in toddlerhood. And some, including myself, may argue that they’re even longer. Today is Thursday and I’m home with my little love as our childcare, aka Grammie, is finishing up a two-week trip through the Panama Canal. (Side note: Please come home soon, Grammie!) She treated me by sleeping until almost 8am, and greeted me with big hugs and kisses when I went into her room. Those moments are the ones I live for. Her eyes still sleepy, her hair stuck in all the directions, and her arms wrapped so tightly around my neck it feels that she’ll never let go. And then, the day starts. MILK!! she barks. A simple request that we fought so hard to get her to do, to use her words to communicate wants and needs. And now it sounds like she’s beckoning her servant. MILK! How do you ask for milk, hunny? Milk, please mommy. Okay baby, thank you. Let’s do this.
Disagreement #1 if I recall was whether she should put on a clean pull-up. Disagreement #2 was definitely about whether she should eat literally anything for breakfast, my position being that she should definitely eat, hers was the opposite. Disagreement #3, a real good one, surrounded the very-not-new idea of getting dressed. It’s shockingly disappointing to her that every day, we get dressed. Equal shock and disappointment usually occurs when we put on pajamas at night.
I’ll give her credit where credit is due, she was absolutely phenomenal when a representative from a company that offers ABA therapy came to meet with me. She played on her own quietly in the living room while we discussed timelines, services, schedules, and progress reports. While her mommy’s head was spinning and spiraling into the world of Autism, Clara’s little people were taking off on vacation and her baby was going for walks in her stroller. Magic.
I think we’re up to disagreement #4? Do you want to go to Target? NO! Do you want to go to Target? We can go out to lunch and maybe get a prize! NO! (We went to Target. Mommy always wins.) Disagreement #5: Mommy tries to put Clara in cart. Clara has a different vision of the trip to Target. WALK! WALK! WALKKKKKK! Disagreement #6 was something related to goldfish crackers, one that she ultimately won somehow as she ended up with princess goldfish. I, for the record, had no idea said type of goldfish existed. They’re pink, by the way. Pink. Princess. Goldfish. Crackers.
We went to lunch. Disagreements #s 7, 8, and especially 9 all stemmed from the dreaded high chair. One of us thought Clara should sit in said high chair, and one of us thought that Clara should be able to sit in a big-girl chair. I’ll let you guess who fought for which. Clara sat in the chair, so again, I’d like to go on record by saying that I believe in compromise. She did fairly well until causing a complete scene, aka # 9, at which point we headed for the car for disagreement #10, the car seat. Again, why is getting into a carseat new information? You have literally NEVER ridden in a car without being strapped into a carseat. This should not be surprising to you.
Upon returning home, we had one more disagreement, #11, about the pull up. Again. Back arching, blood curdling cries, kicking, screaming…. One leg in, the other out. The other leg in, the first leg out. In. Out. Out. In? In! And… there! Pull up on. Great. NAP TIME!
And there you have it my friends, half a day in the life of Clara and Mommy. She’s still napping, something that she has always been great about, and I’m indulging in my favorite pregnancy cravings: crushed ice and strawberries. Will there be more disagreements when she wakes up? Yes, it’s likely. Will they be earth-shattering? No, just like numbers one through eleven weren’t either. She’s two. Some of it stems just from that. She also has Autism. Some of it likely stems from that. She has good days and she has not-so-good days, good moments and not-so-good moments… just like all the children who ever lived, and you could even say just like all the humans who ever lived as well. I still wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, because she’s my brightest light and my greatest joy.
Now excuse me while I take advantage of nap time to go… you guessed it… nap.
