I Won't Miss....!

As my friends around me are continuing to have new babies, and I look our youngest and see all the things we have moved beyond, there are several things that I can say with confidence that I will not miss about these tender years when my children are all grown up.  Of course no one will miss the baby vomit, the midnight sheet changes, the potty training, the sibling spats, the inability of children under the age of five to use utensils and on and on.  But here are three other matters that rank very high on my won't miss list as my children grow.

The first of these is handicap buttons in every business we go to.  First, I must throw in the caveat that they are a wonderful invention and what a boon for technology to help those that the handicap buttons are actually intended for.  However, as a mother of four, those buttons are a serious problem.  I have always had at a minimum, two children fighting over who gets to push the button to open the door.  For example, a few months ago Samuel needed his ears checked at the doctor's office.  As we exited the office, all four children trailing behind me, it turned into a complete road derby as the children scrambled around and over and under each other to see who could get to the button first.  Ethan, flexible as a fox and quick as a ferret gave an elbow jab to Nina, a duck and twist around Samuel, and an impressive leap in front of this elderly woman using a walker.  Horrified, I proceeded to screech at Ethan to STOP!  After I got him halted, the elderly lady and her companion stopped right in the middle of the door and my three other children rudely scrambled around them to get to push the button again.  By the time I corralled Samuel and Ethan on to the bench outside, I was able to pick up Nina and Jocelyn, football style under each arm and pack them outside as they bleated and screamed "I DO IT!!"  while kicking me in the side.  It was mortifying.  I gave the quick "YOU ARE BUSTED!" lecture, made all four children sit on the bench with little hands in laps and turned around an apologized to the two sweet ladies.  To my luck that day, the lady with the walker was in hysterics and said "Don't worry child!  That was the most fun I've had all week!  You'll miss these days!"  Then she reminisced, told me about her seven children all the time I stared daggers at my children's jubilant youthful faces and thought silently, "I will not miss my children's screaming races for the handicap buttons!"  

The second thing I swear I will not miss once my children cross over into bored adolescence is the inability to get a decent night of sleep.  For about two months in Nina and Jocelyn's 2.5 years, both of them slept all the way through the night.  That started when they were 2 years old and ended when they were 2 years and 2 months old.  I feel nearly drunk hung over exhausted most days and rely heavily on coffee to encourage functionality.  Like clockwork at about 1:30 a.m. every night Jocelyn comes running, crying up the stairs for another "I Love You" hug.  Her screeching tirade wakes Nina who stands in her bed wailing, "Mommy!  Mommy!"  Every night I pack Jocelyn back to bed, tuck Nina back into bed, wake Ethan for a potty break, then crash for about 45 minutes until it starts over again.  Usually about 3 a.m. I find myself finally on the couch with my pillow and blanket so that Peter can sleep for his long drives to and from Gillette.  Sometimes it holds and I squeeze in two or three hours, sometimes I am up over and over.  We've tried everything including keeping them up during the day to make them tired, putting them to bed earlier, putting them to bed later, threatening to cut off limbs (not really).  They go back down easily, it is just the constant interruptions in my sleep that turn me into a walking zombie.  I assure you, I look forward to children that roll their eyes and demand to sleep until noon, because I will be sleeping too.

The third thing I can't wait to embrace is the ravenous appetites of athletic, growing pubescents.  Sound ridiculous?  I'm sure my bank account is standing back crossing its fingers that this time won't come.  However, I think it would be a pleasure to toss tacos on the table one night, lasagna on it the next, chicken breasts the third, and so on.  Then I stand back, watch every one sit and eat as quickly as they can, jump from the table and say, "Thanks Mom!"  They will be growing so fast that their insatiable stomachs won't allow their taste buds on their tongues to tell their brain to tell their mouth to whine, "I don't like thiiisss...Ugghhh."  They'll just eat it.  And if they truly don't like onions, they'll have the forethought and dexterity to pick them out all by themselves.  Until then, I'll endure every meal preparation with thoughts such as, "Ethan doesn't like bacon, Samuel doesn't like chewy meat, Nina won't eat sauce on her pasta, Jocelyn will eat every orange and nothing else."  And I'll weather all the boo-hoo comments once the food is presented and continue to threaten starvation if they don't eat it. 

So as all the onlookers remind me what a joy these years are, I will embrace that it is true I will miss the constant snuggles and delight of discovery.  But I won't ever say fondly, "Remember how great it was when Ethan nearly knocked the elderly woman down?  Oh!  Remember what fun it was to sit for 45 minutes and encourage our children to eat their food EVERY day?  Oh!  Remember how awesome it was to sleep three hours a night?"  How about you?