A few years ago on Thanksgiving Eve, I wrote a piece titled "One Day." And all of a sudden I find myself living in much of that One Day that seemed so far away as I prepped Thanksgiving Dinner with an sleeping infant in a sling.
All of a sudden ...
I wake up to the sound of our three children happily playing and chatting with each other in the early morning weekend hours. On school days, they are snuggled under their covers till I get them up, of course.
I brush my teeth after getting out of bed and even put deodorant on. There is no longer a stick of deodorant in my car. Some days I even take a shower and, gasp, shave my legs!
I wear one outfit all day long, unless I go workout (which was but a pipe dream all those years ago). No one spits up on me, wipes their face on my shoulder or drools on me.
I work out several times a week instead of getting the bulk of my exercise lifting children and sweeping floors.
There are no diapers or pull ups in my trash can assaulting my senses. And I can finally leave the house with three kids and no diaper bag.
All three of my children can wipe their own bums. (This morning I overheard the gleeful exclamation from the 3 year old, "Hey guys, I wiped my own butt!")
I no longer have to chaperone bathroom trips or read books to poopers. Fiona now reads to her brother in the bathroom.
At least one of my children can cut their own food, with a butter knife no less.
I cook dinner without a child on my hip. In fact, I have helpers who make salad, set tables and pour their own water.
But some things haven't changed much. My husband and I still talk mostly about the location of various stuffed animals and kid paraphernalia and the status of the laundry. I still eat mommy treats in the closet. I still find the house in various states of kid-induced disarray. I still don't go to the bathroom alone. I still drive a minivan, a k a the mobile trash can, and buckle at least one child in and out. Under the breakfast table still looks like drunk pigs ate there.
What remains of the seemingly endless childhood stages will likely
fly by. In just the past week, my daughter learned to ride her
two-wheeler with no help. In six months, she'll go to kindergarten. In a
year and a half, my bum-wiping baby will go to kindergarten.
How did this happen so fast? As I've often heard, the days are long, but the years are short.