How to hold these moments
Posted on | April 29, 2009 | 21 Comments
I know that nothing lasts. I know that spring in this place, northward where the light is lingering now and the first dandelions fleck the lawn, will become summer before I blink. I know these days will pass, and I will look back, suddenly much older than I am, with a heart full of longing for the sweet scent of my son’s head after playing in his sandbox until noon and for the way each year we celebrate the first trillium, purple and secretive by the tumbling stone wall, with our own little giddy dance.
I will likely not remember this season’s heart full of ambiguity and ache. I will probably entirely forget how Bean has entered a new SUPER BOSSY exceptionally annoying phase this past week where he’s trying on YELLING and DEMANDING just to see how far he gets with that. (Not far, little man. Not far at all.)
I know this, and yet I’m still struggling with being right here in these moments, because damn, right here in these moments is an uncomfortable place to be sometimes.
I know they are not unique, these moments of stress and financial strain and oh damn, I’ll just say it, it’s spring and I’m feeling a little tethered by these two boys. I still don’t know how to take on the playground, or any trip for that matter that involves just me and my boys. I don’t know how she does it with her girl tribe and her positive attitude all the time, because right now nothing terrifies me quite as much as the prospect of being out somewhere when they launch into their perfectly synchronized meltdowns.
I need to know how you do this with two. How do you get two into the car and then back out of it—without a double stroller. How do you make sure the big one doesn’t fall off the swing at the playground or get run over in the parking lot while toting the enormous weight a car seat carrier or a baby strapped to your person? What do you do with the big one while the little one needs a diaper change at the bookstore, and the situation demands an entire change of clothing due to an apparent explosion up the back? Or, how do you possibly navigate something as civilized and pleasant as a story hour for the bigger one, if the littler one is present and possibly grumpy? Not to mention—shopping for a new pair of jeans? (He’s here, he’s there, he’s under every freaking clothes rack in the store, and oh joy, he’s managed to unhang eighty nine dresses, even though of course, he didn’t mean to.)
My solution thus far has been to stay home. Which is decidedly not a good solution. It is spring after all. Picnic baskets seem in order, and swinging at the playground and trips to the bakery for croissants. There is a consignment store for fabulous vintage jeans I’ve been dying to poke around in, and there are errands of the more mundane sort (the post office for more stamps, we’re out of Vitamin C, the chickens need more hay) that seem to pile up, never getting done. I’m floundering a bit. This two thing is hard. Not loving them, just having them. Together. Logistically speaking.
I know it will all pass, and I’ll be grinning like a cat after a bowl of cream in four or five years when I can use both hands for carrying things like lattes and shopping bags, and my boys will be SO BIG. I know it will get easier, and I’ll take a not-so-secret glee in watching my currently childless friends whose lives seem divinely effortless right now, navigate these same first years with their own little ones. Because it just is the way it is. Littleness demands patience and selflessness and satisfaction in small things.
Guess what I’m figuring out?
Having little ones means showing up for parenting even when you don’t feel like it. It’s not Bean’s fault or Sprout’s that I’m worried about money, or that DH and I sometimes climb a proverbial tower of Babel and are unable to say anything the other one understands, or that my pants are tight, or I miss my girlfriends. Because these days that are passing? These hours of bright sunlight and stormy afternoons; these rain puddles and duck feathers and muddy garden beds; these moments? These are their childhood.
Theirs. Short, fleeting, glorious.
So even though DH and I were both tired and preoccupied after going for a run yesterday (with both boys in the jogger and the sun warm on our backs) I went and got the little plastic terrarium and hiked down to the neighbor’s pond because I promised I would.
I promised Bean I’d help him catch a tadpole, and he held me to my promise, big-eyed, curious, eager. We went before dinner, and I tried very hard to just sink into our time together. The grass was scandalously green. There were soft catkins from the birches under foot, and mud, and sparkly rocks. We went barefoot, and in the pond the silt was soft. The reeds from last year’s cattails were limp and brown and lumpy with gelatinous bobbing egg sacks.
I waded out, sun-warmed water up to my knees and scooped the jellied eggs. Polliwogs soon, we think. We also caught a newt. Still with gills. Its belly jewel like, spotted, yellow and green.
“I love you, Newty” Bean kept whispering later, as he sat at the kitchen table in glorious evening sunlight, drawing what he saw.
These moments, how to hold them? How do you hold them and let them be enough?
Oh restless heart, be still, be still.
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21 Responses to “How to hold these moments”
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I am Christina Rosalie
Hello. I'm so happy you've stopped by!
I am a multimedia storyteller, digital strategist, idea starter, stalker of wonder, finder of four leaf clovers, MFA graduate student, and mama of boys. My first book,
will be published by SKIRT! Books in September, 2012.
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April 29th, 2009 @ 10:09 pm
I now have three (5, 3.5 and 10 months) and I still don’t know how Kal does it (I follow her blog also and knew immediately who you are referring to!) I just stayed at home too … NOW just having two instead of all three seems easy though. Ha. Funny what you get used to, isn’t it? But it passes. And does somehow get easier. One day you just wake up and can do it. Hang in there!
April 30th, 2009 @ 1:06 am
I have two – 4 and 7. And a niece of 5 who seems to be a near permanent fixture in our house. Some days are good. Some days not so good. I try to find the good in everyday and hope that the next day brings more of that.
April 30th, 2009 @ 2:05 am
Ask for as much help as you can (from DH, relatives, friends, babysitters) and try to regularly schedule it from one week to the next. Then, when you are feeling overwhelmed by moments of maximum twoness, you’ll know that you have those hours coming to you to get stuff done.
April 30th, 2009 @ 6:37 am
get you to the jeans shop, girl, alone! BALANCE is everything with two – not necessarily balancing the two of THEM but balancing meeting the unrelenting needs of little souls with meeting your own. Doing that is counter-intuitive and seems horribly selfish but if you don’t make meeting your own needs sacrosanct, there can’t possibly be enough left in you to make meeting theirs the pleasure it’s supposed to be. Just my view.
April 30th, 2009 @ 6:41 am
also… i’m still thinking about that anna quindlen quote… and i’m wrestling with whether we can ever really let the moment be enough… i know so acutely the sense of loss as i look back at an old photo and mourn the moments already passed… but even as i try to hold the present it trickles through my fingers like grains of sand. sometimes even trying to let the moment be enough can turn into a kind of striving. maybe instead we need to learn to love the restlessness in our own hearts, follow where it leads in ways we can. maybe the moon isn’t meant for catching, but that doesn’t have to mean we stop reaching out into the darkness?
April 30th, 2009 @ 7:30 am
Oh. I have been where you are, but with newborn twins and a two year old. Although I can remember the *moments* fondly, glimpses back to nursing twins, a very big “helper” and sweet bedtime routines, I remember how much easier it was to stay home. How overwhelming it was to go to the grocery store. But, then life demands that you actually LIVE it and my stroller (which I hated, and cursed often) became my best friend. TWO car seats were just too much, and well, the stroller made it easier. I could hold a hand and push. Also, TAKE JULIA’S ADVICE. Get a babysitter that will come one (or MORE!) afternoon every week for a couple of hours. Then, you can go jeans shopping, or get groceries ALONE, and you will be able to appreciate the moments more. I used to shower when mine came….
April 30th, 2009 @ 7:34 am
Home can be a sanctuary. You just have to change the way you think about it. As for getting out: Don’t rush it. It gets a lot easier when the baby can sit up on his own (plop him down at the playground) and exponentially easier, logistically, when he can stand on his own. Mine are 3.5, 2, and 4 months and I SO had those “have to get out” expectations when the 2 year old arrived but now, with the 4 month old, I have just accepted that it is easier to stay at home. I will be able to go anywhere with the kids soon enough. He is only a little baby for such a fleetingly short time.
April 30th, 2009 @ 7:56 am
Do you know, it actually seemed easier to me to navigate with 2 than with the first one by himself. Although I have to say that Martin was pretty easy to keep track of when I was preoccupied with Karin…I didn’t have to worry that he was unhanging clothes off racks or any such thing.
I guess my advice is: short trips, not too often and not too ambitious. They have to learn how to behave in public situations, too, after all…so giving them that chance to do it is a good thing, if a bit harrowing to poor Mom sometimes.
I love this post. It brings back so many memories. And it captures spring and childhood in a beautiful bubble. Newts! Aaaaah.
Do your best to focus on the sweet and the good and try not to worry too much about stuff—everything changes constantly and everything passes. It’s lovely that you’re trying so hard not to miss it or spoil it.
April 30th, 2009 @ 8:14 am
I was already tearing up just scrollingdown through the photos, but “I love you Newty” pushed me over the edge. They grow up so fast and they are such wondrous creatures.
April 30th, 2009 @ 8:15 am
Take it one moment at a time. I trained my big kid to put a hand on the stroller or hood of the car (to keep him close by when dealing with the baby)…I’ve made the baby wait, while dealing with the bog kid. Just take it one moment at a time, do what you need to do in that moment and move on to the next moment – next task – this way you don’t get too overwhelmed!
Oh but you will, and it will be OK. I’ve learned with my older child to give him more responsibility and let him help me more is the best answer.
And enjoy the little moments of wonder. For these are too fleeting – and they should be remembered!
April 30th, 2009 @ 10:46 am
The logistics of it all blows my mind, too. I don’t know HOW these amazing mamas do it, and when they don’t do it, we help out, we tribe of mamas and women, working together. The other day I was leaving the park after a get together of lots of kids and moms, and I spotted a friend’s child in the parking lot, running along the sidewalk, calling for his mom. (She’s got a newborn too, who has spend lots of time in the NICU.)I thought she was in the car, about to leave, and my heart stopped, and I caught up to him as fast I could. Realized that his mom wasn’t in her car yet, and held his sturdy little hand in mine as she came running for him, all the while holding my 25 plus. I know it’s a moment that she will relive over and over, God bless her.
I tell that story not to scare you, but it’s on my mind. We all have to help each other out. Rely on whatever help you have at your disposal, and don’t be afraid to ask. It will take practice to get used to have two little ones to shepherd around, and a few disasters will happen. Thankfully, Bean is old enough to take direction – though mischievious, he can do it (wait in his seat while you get the baby situated, for instance). Now this is sounding way ass-vicey, aaaiiieee! Said with total love, you know how I adore you.
April 30th, 2009 @ 10:48 am
oops, meant to say, “while holding my 25 + pounder on my hip” – got interrupted whilst writing, you understand -
April 30th, 2009 @ 11:52 am
I know this feeling. I stayed home quite a bit I’m afraid and then when I didn’t my husband and I would divide and conquer…I’d take the baby and shop and he’d go to the park with the big girl, or the book store in the rain. Now it does seem easy and it is second nature and my youngest is only a year, I don’t know when the switch happened but it did. Just keep trying, like you already know and stated so eloquently this time is fleeting and a new time will be upon you soon and you won’t remember how it wasn’t always this way.
beautiful photos.
April 30th, 2009 @ 4:17 pm
even though we’re in a different mothering place (mine is eight) i so get your words and really feel heard when i read your struggles. it’s the one thing i love about your writing.
April 30th, 2009 @ 4:35 pm
first…can I just say, “OMG those eyelashes on your little guy are amazing”…
I’ve been home with the kids forever (17 years) and the only way I kept my sanity when they were little, was through play groups….being around other moms and babies and kids is the only way to manage those long days….and then everything else falls into place…a trip to target or the grocery store or gymboree….nothing seems overwhelming as long as you have had your time with other moms who are home with their kids, too !
April 30th, 2009 @ 8:32 pm
that restless heart, honey, is what makes you the mommy you are. it’s what gives you the energy to hike down to the pond for tadpoles (which i LOVE about you, being the wife of a herpetologist – my daughter is named after a genus name of a tree frog!). it is that restlessness that will keep your children intrigued about life and always questioning, and your heart will have enough in it to find the answers.
it is so hard sometimes. sometimes i lose my temper and poor porter is at the receiving end because he is older. he is the one who shouldn’t be peeing his pants when he knows how to use the potty, etc. but i find that the alternative – sitting still – makes me more crazy. when i go to garden i have to lug a whole bunch of sh*t outside – sheet for the baby to sit on, toys, umbrella with stand because i live in the damn congo, sippy cups, tractor and trains for porter – but it is worth it to get my little time with my hands in the dirt. maybe you can get a little plastic wheel barrow (sp – is that right? my brain is in the wine right now) to haul some essentials to the chicken coop with you to keep them busy. porter has learned to help be me a bit with hyla – “mommy hyla is eating grass!” – it helps. (a little dirt won’t hurt in my opinion!) you will figure out the perfect solution and everything will change and you will adapt again. enjoy it, sweetie. just be easy on yourself – it all can’t be perfect … ah, the wine is making me wordy.
May 1st, 2009 @ 12:43 pm
Find a good friend that doesn’t have kids to help you on these outings! that’s what I did! I never went anywhere without the help of my best friend LOL!!! I stayed home til they were 2 & 3 years old!!! tara
May 1st, 2009 @ 8:40 pm
i know how you feel, really. after #2 was born though staying home just wasn’t an option – i’m still “new” to this area and don’t have a single friend here and staying home alone with two little ones is too much to bear, so i braved it. maybe this isn’t much in the way of advice, but i would say just do it. story time was my first solo outing with 2 and it wasn’t easy but it wasn’t that hard. it gets easier every time, really.
i love that you can express with words these feelings that i know so many of us mama’s share – i love your blog !!
May 2nd, 2009 @ 2:42 pm
… I can’t really offer any help, as I am just figuring out how to be a good babysitter to *one* 14 month old girl. My oh my. Two things I thought of when reading your post were “sling” and “buggy board” (in case that’s what it’s called), but then, Bean seems so tall already … this probably doesn’t help at all, but in my eyes, you seem to be so good at it.
May 3rd, 2009 @ 2:54 pm
It’s not easy. Not at all. My first few grocery trips with a grumpy preschooler in the shopping cart and a crying baby in the Snugli were draining… but also had a way of making me feel like Superwoman. I had to keep getting out of the house to learn all the tricks of making my family work. Like, always have a lollipop in my purse for the older one (now, I keep two). Or, push the stroller around the block first to put the baby to sleep before attempting the playground. Or, it’s okay to walk out of the restaurant without ordering.
You’ll come into your own rhythm of mothering two. You WILL. It will take time and probably a disaster or two (like Sam said) and all the frustration that comes with learning from scratch, but you WILL.
December 31st, 2009 @ 3:20 am
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