Menopausal Mother

 
    I've been through the toddler trenches---four times, to be exact, and I'm happy to say that I survived unscathed. Okay, that may not be entirely true. My memories are blurred. Maybe I'm just suffering from PTSD (Post Toddler Stress Disorder), which explains why I don't remember much from those mind-numbing years of motherhood. But now that I have a young grandchild, it's all coming back in waves. I'm remembering what I didn't like about those years, but I'm also feeling immense pride in my daughter for being such a patient mother amidst the toddler turbulence she's currently experiencing. I'm happy that I don't have to deal with that kind of stress anymore on a daily basis (just on the weekends when I'm on babysitting duty, thank you very much).  

     If you have older children, you can finally relax and celebrate all of these reasons why it's great to no longer be raising a toddler:


1. BEDTIME: You get to skip the nightly ritual of putting a cranky, overly-tired toddler into pajamas while she's flailing around on the floor----which is about as much fun as trying to put long johns on a slippery octopus.

2. FOOD WARS: You won't have to smother every vegetable you serve with ketchup or cheese sauce and then lie to your child by telling them it tastes like chicken nuggets.

3. POOP: No more running to the bathroom at breakneck speeds when you hear an excited voice shout, "MOMMY, I DID A BIG POOPIE!" If you don't get there early enough to help them wipe, you'll be smelling butt vapors the rest of the day.

4. PROPERTY DAMAGE: You won't have to live in fear that your precious little angel will scribble all over your expensive baseball card collection with a waterproof marker.  

5. TANTRUMS: No more dealing with meltdowns over a sandwich that has not been cut into the shape of Simba's head, or the entire Lion King pride, for that matter.

6. LACK OF SLEEP: You'll no longer be prodded awake at 5:00 a.m. by a toddler who needs to pee, then claims to be thirsty and hungry. They rarely go back to sleep after they've made the long trek to the toilet and back. Whenever this happens, it's like having a little person running around all morning cracked out on Kool-Aid and lollipops. Be thankful that the only thing waking you up now is an alarm clock.

7.  ANNOYING KID SHOWS: No more whiney Caillou, Yo Gabba Gabba, Dora The Explorer or Bubble Guppies invading your living room each morning (which is far worse on your mental state if the coffee hasn't kicked in yet).

8. NOISE CONTROL: You can ditch the kazoos, electronic alphabet games, talking storybooks and mini drum sets. You might even be able to ditch the ear plugs too, unless your have a teen at home who loves to blast dubstep in decibels loud enough to make your ears bleed.

9. MESSES: The word "toddler" should be synonymous with"twister", because once these little human beings have been awake for a more than thirty minutes, your house looks like its been picked up by a tornado and tossed upside down. Now that your kids are older, you don't have to worry about developing curvature of the spine from bending down all day to pick up their toys.

10. OUTDOOR "FUN": Your thighs will no longer be chafed from the slide at the park, nor will you be forced to squeeze your butt into a swing the size of tight sling shot that's ready to launch you into outer space.

     Despite all of these things, if I didn't have my sweet grandchild to cuddle and love, I'd be missing out on all the good things that come with raising a toddler. They love unconditionally, expressing unbridled affection for family and friends alike. They're quick to forgive, trust easily, and are fiercely loyal.

     Toddlers also have an insatiable curiosity and a zest for life that most of us have lost. They find immeasurable joy in the simplest things, whether it's running through a sprinkler, digging their toes in the sand, dancing to silly songs or hugging their favorite animal. Every meltdown and struggle is worth the sound of their infectious laughter and the light in their eyes when you walk into the room. Their unvarnished souls are a glimpse into what our lives are intended to be---joyous, unfettered and filled with boundless love.


 

Welcome to another edition of the Fly On The Wall group posts. Today, 14 brave bloggers are inviting you into their homes for a glimpse of what you'd see if you were a fly on the wall.

     Our youngest is only a year from graduating----between school, work and an active social life, he's seldom home. Since our three older children flew the coop years ago, my husband and I have been enjoying a taste of freedom as "almost" empty nesters. I cook less, nap more and I get to spend unlimited time in the garden. Even better, there are plenty of uninterrupted Cialis moments bringing spontaneity back into our lives. My husband and I are rediscovering each other after thirty years of marriage, and suddenly it's 1984 all over again.
   
     Until karma came knocking at the door.

     My oldest daughter was offered a job transfer with the opportunity to move back to her hometown. A month later she arrived on our steps with a toddler on her hip and a moving van in the driveway. The quiet serenity I'd grown accustomed to disappeared before the first suitcase was unpacked.

     Gone are the days of sharing a leisurely cup of coffee over the morning news. My husband and I now sip our daily elixir while watching Chuggington with our granddaughter sandwiched between us on the couch.

     And the changes don't stop there.

     The living room that I kept as clean as a showroom floor is now littered with stuffed animals, a toddler trampoline, a plastic princess slide and a talking choo choo train. I'm having flashbacks of raising four kids with enough play equipment in my house to run an amusement park. I'm trapped in the Land of the Wee People where there are tiny little tables, tiny little chairs and tiny little toys cluttering my home.

     My life has become one long deja vu as I stress about spilled apple juice, gooey tabletops and curious dogs choking on Lego blocks. There are glass rings in the shape of an Olympics symbol on my fine wood furniture and unidentifiable stains that resemble a Rorschach inkblot test on my couch. These mishaps are a sharp reminder of the twenty years I spent with a roll of paper towels in one hand and a spray cleaner in the other.

     I've learned that 8:00 p.m. is the witching hour for small children when the dreaded word "bedtime" is uttered. It automatically sets off a siren that can be heard six blocks away. It's the battle cry of every rebellious toddler waging a war against sleep. My granddaughter is no exception, and the high decibels of her nightly tantrums make my ears bleed. This sets the dogs on edge, and within minutes my home sounds like it has been overrun by a pack of howling coyotes.

     Extra people in the house also means that my garbage bin looks like Mount Trashmore, the laundry pile is the height of Mount Kilimanjaro and the dirty dishes in the sink are stacked higher than Mount Everest. My home has been transformed into a mountain range.

     I'm dealing daily with unpleasant odors that permeate the air, but I'm not sure if the smell is from my flatulating pugs or a diaper gone wrong. Pretty soon I'll need to invest in a gag-o-meter to determine the culprit of stink.

     Other changes include a second refrigerator in our spare bedroom for our daughter's organic groceries. She prefers clean eating. The irony of this is not lost on me since all my children lived by the five second rule whenever food fell on the floor.

      The extra stress from all the changes in our home has caused my husband to gnash his teeth down to the size of corn niblets, and just yesterday I noticed that my night guard is now sporting new holes.

     I may be on the verge of a middle age meltdown, but in all the chaos, I've found magic. It comes in the form of a little girl's laughter when she rushes into my arms after her morning waffles and plants a sticky kiss on my cheek. It's there, at the kitchen table, when I share a glass of wine with my daughter as we giggle and gossip into the wee hours of the night. More importantly, there's magic behind every "I love you" and every embrace.

     I miss the freedom of an empty nest, but I'll gladly trade it for a house full of laughter, and all the sticky kisses my granddaughter has to offer.