It dawned on me recently that as a mother, I have made it past the "survival mode" period. Sleep and I have become great friends again. "Reunited and it feels so goo-ood." If the kids want or need something (there is a difference), they can use their words and we communicate. We are out of those wretched diapers, although I still wipe a bum now and then. I no longer think to myself, how am I going to make it through this day with my sanity intact? I am in the clear, as long as I don't have another baby, (an entirely different beast I've been grappling with lately... I am thinking it's time for a pet).
With the exception of the inevitable communicative virus and the occasional nightmare, I'm sleeping again, which makes me a pretty normal functioning human being. The times of waking six times per night and getting three short hours of interrupted sleep are over. . . Hallelujah!
Phase one: complete.
Phase two: Enjoy.
The ages of three and six are pretty darn enjoyable. The boy is cuddly, compassionate and he sure does love his mama! Big sister is still completely innocent, but on the cusp of becoming a "big kid." Sure, they fight like cats and dogs (I literally just stepped away from the keyboard to break up a kitty-puppy fight), but deep down it is clear that they enjoy each other's company. Life is pretty swell in the Robertson household. (I think I may have just jinxed myself).
There was a frightening period when the husband and I would attempt to go on a date, and all we seemed to be able to talk about was the kids. That was terribly scary. Had we become those people? I am happy to say, no, we hadn't. Just like every other stage of parenting, that too was just a phase. I seem to have regained my self-identity, and am not only a mother. He never really lost his. . . he's solid like that.
The kids are working on a puzzle, and I have a little bit of time to type out my thoughts on my attentive keyboard. Today will be busy: auction meeting to raise money for Haley's school at ten, and a play date with a new friend at noon. I may get to go to the gym for an hour or two before we the sitter arrives so that we can go celebrate a friend's birthday at the wine bar. We'll be home by eight, at which time I'll crawl into bed with a book before dozing off for the night. It's not exactly what I envisioned for myself before we had children, but honestly, if I had something else envisioned I do not remember it.
It's smooth sailing from here. . . or at least until we hit the tweens; something I'd rather not think about at all until I am absolutely forced to.