From babies to big kids in 2 seconds flat

It's so bizarre how our children grow up and we don't even see it coming. It should be obvious. Growing is what all living things do. It's common sense that our babies are going to grow up. We help them blow out an ever-increasing collection of birthday candles each year. We move them from our beds to their own. We complain when we realize those brand new pants that fit them just two weeks ago are now too short. We smile proudly when they learn to write their name, then sentences then page 200 of their 500 page autobiography.

So, the other night, when my kindergartener fell asleep in my lap, why was I shocked by how big he has become? I remember putting him to the breast for the very first time. I remember smiling at the toothless grin on that little boy who took to nursing so easily. That very first time, when he fell asleep at my breast, he fit in the crook of one arm. When he fell asleep in my lap a few nights ago, he took up half the couch.

In my experience, we see them grow up, but we often don't see them. I watch them grow, so there's rarely a big jump from one age to the next. It's not until I look back at old pictures that I realize how young they looked a year or two (or eight) ago.

My oldest daughters are no longer babies, but I find that particularly difficult to believe. They're the same age I was when I started wearing a bra. A BRA for goodness sakes! Oh. My. Stars! I can't even think about my first babies wearing bras. I swear they're still toddlers. I still think of them that way even though one is now working her way through all the Harry Potter books in record time and the other is plotting ways to start a business to raise money for a laptop.

I don't think anything prepares you for this. Before you have kids, you hear people marveling over how quickly it goes and you think they're just sentimental saps. When your baby hits his/her first birthday, you may marvel at how quickly it has gone or how much they have changed (unless you have preemies. Then, if you're anything like me, when you get to the one year mark, you think, "It's about damn time!"), but even that only gives you a glimpse into how much you will be absolutely shocked by how these children grow and everything they learn.

I wish there was some way to tell mom or dad up yet again, rocking a fussing baby to sleep at 2 am that in a much shorter time then they expect, they'll relish those moments when their baby is 30+ pounds bigger and, in a very rare event, falls asleep sprawled out across mom or dad's lap.

A friend of mine likes to say, "This moment is brief," in regards to parenting troubles. She then adds, "You can take that whatever way you want." Maybe you take that as a comfort that these difficult times will end soon. Maybe it serves as a reminder that all of these moments are far too brief and we'll find ourselves longing for them in the not-too-distant future.

Mothers' Day gifts

On the radio today, I heard a number of moms call in to share either their favorite Mothers' Day gift or what they want this year. The answers ranged from a house keeper to one mom's wish to watch her favorite t.v. shows at the actual time they're on rather than having to record them to watch later.

It doesn't take me any time to decide what my favorite Mothers' Day gift is.

When my daughters were in the NICU, we went to visit them on Mothers' Day and found notes taped to the top of their incubators. The nurses there had left gifts for all the moms. They typed up a poem on pretty paper and stamped each babies' feet on the side.

This was a time when I didn't feel like a mother at all. I wasn't able to parent my babies. The doctors and nurses made all the decisions and did all the baby care. We were only able to hold our children twice a day. I wore my hospital ID bracelets long after I was released because they had given me one for each of my babies to identify me as their mother. I had to leave without my babies. Whereas other moms around me pushed babies in strollers, wore them in slings or carried them in their arms, my arms were empty. Those bracelets proved I was a mother since I had no babies with me to do that.

So that little poem was even more important for me. I needed to know that people saw me as a mother. I needed to be reminded that my children still relied on me as their mother, even when I couldn't do the typical motherly things.

That gift cost nothing, but I don't think any Mothers' Day gift will ever be more important or more profound.

Puberty, girls and the not-too-distant future

Lately, my sister is complaining about the age of her children. She loved having a 7-year-old step-son when she had a baby (she also has a little girl sandwiched between the oldest and youngest), but she has just come to realize that means she'll have a 9-year-old boy when the baby hits the terrible twos (which is only a month away). You see, the oldest boy has been demonstrating some tween attitudes lately ("I don't wanna wear the hood. I'll look like a dork." So he slams the door and refuses to wear the hood in the rain only to come home complaining that his hair curled when it got wet and looked, "Stupid," for the rest of the day).

That made me think about how old our oldest girls will be when this youngest one is 2. It just occurred to me that they will probably be in the early stages of puberty. They will be the same age I was when I started wearing a bra. Please give me a moment while I pick my jaw up off the floor.

The thought of my teeny tiny baby girls--my first borns, in bras scares the hell out of me. It makes me want to hug them close, smooth their hair and insist they can't grow up.

For the first year of their lives, my premie twins were so tiny and so developmentally delayed. I wanted nothing more than for them to grow and do new things. As our children approached their first birthday, other moms got nostalgic and weepy insisting their babies were growing up too fast. Not me. I glared at them urging them to gain a few more pounds; catch up developmentally and just grow, damn it. At a year, my preemies were 14 and 15 lbs, couldn't stand unassisted and didn't crawl (although they did low crawl).

Now, we're standing at the edge of puberty and I find myself in a very different (which I just accidentially typed as "difficult," hmmm...maybe not so much of an accident) situation. It suddenly occured to me that my little girls will one day be women.

When we found out the twins were girls, my husband was so excited. He loved the idea of two little girls. He comes from a family of boys. I told him then, just you wait until they hit puberty. Just wait until you have two moody pre-teen girls getting their periods. He laughed at me and shook his head.

We have no idea what we're in for. I want to be one of those cool moms who respects her daughters' privacy (no big red balloons or party hats that say, "Yay, you got your period."), but at the same time, celebrates with them when they hit that milestone. I just don't see how I can when I'm a blubbering mess at the thought of it.