When I envisioned becoming a parent, I had the Leave It To Beaver scenario playing in my brain. I imagined I would be like June Cleaver and stay at home with a pristine cleaned home. Have dinner ready on the table as my husband walked in the door, my children would be neatly dressed with clean clothing, I myself would be the picture of what a perfect stay at home parent is to represent. No sweat pants, hair neatly done, even makeup to make myself feel and look better. Then I actually had children. All the old movies and TV series I watched growing up with my Mom, went out the window when I realized for the first time that children are not programmed with a schedule, they do not arrive in this world well-behaved, and that I was going to have to be a parent and not expect so much out of my newborn and children in general.
When I was pregnant with my first child I read the What To Expect When Expecting book at least four times, it does give a realistic view on how things will feel, what you might experience, and after delivery how a baby will not understand the meaning of night and day. Eventually the baby’s schedules and your schedule sync up but it takes time it stated but for a time it would be most likely that the baby would want to eat and interact with people during the most ungodly hours. Okay ungodly hours is not mentioned in the book I read, perhaps the newer versions have it, but the authors should have put that in there.
When my first child was born, he really did want to interact, eat, need a change of diapers at the most tiring and ungodly hours (definition of ungodly hours is around 2-5am for those whom may be wondering). I have never been a morning person, but after having my first-born I had to learn how to wake up, take care of another human being, and be responsible for the love and care of that tiny child. It wasn’t easy. Thankfully I had my Mom, little brother, my now ex-husband (for a very short time) to help with the first few weeks.
Then I had to fly back to my husband, we lived on one of the Aleutian islands and there were no hospitals so flying to be with family was pretty normal, and found that living with a small baby and trying to make the perfect home, be the perfect mom and wife just was not going to happen. My sister had warned me about having high expectations going into this and I laughed saying I would be different. She shook her head and laughed knowing far more and being far wiser than me.
As my child grew, he had an abundance of toys and books that always seemed to end up in the oddest places. In the cupboards where I kept my pots and pans, in the bathtub, in my dresser. I also found that my resolve was diminishing and that I no longer felt the desire to always keep a perfect house, though my ex-husband did expect as much from me. Needless to say my relationship status changed and then I became a single mom.
I moved back to Wyoming, where my family lived. My parents helped me by allowing my son and myself to move in until I could get us a place and have an income to sustain us. I looked for work, put my son into daycare, and did what any parent finding that their situation has changed will do to make things work. Life seemed like it marched on. My son got bigger, I started dating, then engaged, and then remarried.
My husband and I had family come together to make our wedding special and affordable. Guests came from all over, we said our vows and became a family once more. Soon after we found we would be expecting another arrival. A little girl to add to the family tree, granted she wanted to make an early appearance and I had to take medicine to keep her there, but she arrived none the less healthy. After she was born we honestly thought that would be our family, then lo and behold, surprise I was pregnant! A boy arrived in the usual fashion and by this time, I no longer had the June Cleaver scenario playing in my mind. I had survival mode in full gear!
By this time, if the house wasn’t perfect, oh well. If the kids were clothed in day old clothing, as long as it wasn’t stained, then they were perfectly fine. As for me, if I somehow had managed to get a shower that day I was doing pretty good, if I somehow managed to get something on other than sweatpants, it was a spectacular day, and if I somehow was able to apply makeup and look nice when my husband came home than the kids were at the grandparents house and it was a rare evening of alone time for my husband and I.
Today all my children are 14, 10, and 8. No longer babies. No longer needing me at the ungodly hours. No longer do they reach up for me with their little chubby hands and squeal “Mommy” when I walk into the room. No my children are at the age where they want to be more independent and start learning how to do things themselves. Today, I taught my youngest how to safely chop vegetables and how to add spices to tomato sauce for spaghetti. No my children are at the age of being their own person, having their own wants and desires and personalities.
These days I keep house better than I did when they were younger but the awesome thing is they can help. They now help pick up their toys, put away their clothes, put away dirty dishes, and take out the trash. While I miss the days of when they were babies, I am grateful and blessed to know them as they are now. For I have found that they are some pretty amazing individuals. Now all my husband and I have to do is survive the teenage years.
Pray for us.
Sweet Life at 36 