This summer I've taken the approach that we will just do it. Whatever it is, no matter how difficult it sounds in my head, we will try it if we want to. I'm not talking Disney World alone with the kids. Just small daytrips. Field trips. Even just our neighborhood pool. Alone. Without anyone to help me.
Let's assess the situation. Noah, at 9, is independent 99.9% of the time. He swims well, and the only thing I have to do is basic reminders. He's basically parenting himself. Or helping me. Don't worry, I do work hard to make sure that he is still just a 9 year old kid, and he has LOTS of fun!
Addison, 7, is walking independently, but not consistently. She can't do all-terrain. She gets tired and hot fairly easily. She's loud in public, and she doesn't eat traditional food. She doesn't require a nap, but will occasionally fall asleep in the car, right when we pull in the driveway.
Jackson, 16 months, is beginning to walk, but not for a purpose. He toddles. He eats everything in sight, but still has the napping needs of a 16 month old.
So planning outings that are fun for all three and don't give me an anxiety attack is interesting. But I've decided to just DO IT. And it's been going well. We've been letterboxing, to a state park, shopping, and out to lunch with a friend visiting from Indiana. She was so funny--she's a grandma, and she just marveled at how difficult a simple Chick-Fil-A lunch was. I think 90% of my brain power goes to logistics--who to put in the car first. How to get both in the grocery store. How to unload groceries the fastest. How to bathe both at the same time. It's getting a little easier, but also harder in different ways.
We've been to the pool several times, but I hadn't had Addison and Jackson IN the pool by myself completely alone yet. But I did it. Yesterday. We had fun splashing, taking turns jumping in, playing on the stairs, and walking back and forth, talking to neighbors.
I decided to let Jackson sit at the table, 5 feet away, and play with cars, all the while I'm watching him, waiting for him to fall out of the chair and crack his head on the cement or climb down and bust out his front teeth. Yes, my mind still always goes to Worst Case Scenario. I don't think that will ever change.
As I'm helping Addison "swim" and keeping an eagle eye on Jackson, I was chatting with some neighbors who have their own special needs 3 year old. So they get it. They know it's not easy, and we were joking that there is no relaxing at the pool. Ever. And then the dad said..."Maybe in 10 years." I laughed, and said, "Yeah. Maybe."
Except this is where it gets complicated. Because I don't often think 10 years down the line. My brain can't wrap itself around 10 years from now. I can do the math, but I can't picture Addison at 17. There was a time I couldn't have pictured 7, and even comparing her to Addison of last summer is a HUGE difference. But 10 years???
And then my brain starts to go to the...we'll never be empty-nesters place. Sure, most people grieve when their kids leave, but in my brain, we'll never get to that point. Addison will always be with us. There will be no traveling when the kids are out of the house. Or date nights when they're in middle and high school. We won't take off for the weekend on a whim or have all of them out of the house at camp or sleepovers at once. And that's sad in a different way. It's like this long, difficult journey will never get easier.
Yes, I love it. But it is 1,000% exhausting. And most people live with the light at the end of the tunnel for their kids' childhoods. It makes me a little sad that we won't get that version of Normal.
But who knows. Maybe I'll be wrong in 10 years. Maybe.
Let's assess the situation. Noah, at 9, is independent 99.9% of the time. He swims well, and the only thing I have to do is basic reminders. He's basically parenting himself. Or helping me. Don't worry, I do work hard to make sure that he is still just a 9 year old kid, and he has LOTS of fun!
Addison, 7, is walking independently, but not consistently. She can't do all-terrain. She gets tired and hot fairly easily. She's loud in public, and she doesn't eat traditional food. She doesn't require a nap, but will occasionally fall asleep in the car, right when we pull in the driveway.
Jackson, 16 months, is beginning to walk, but not for a purpose. He toddles. He eats everything in sight, but still has the napping needs of a 16 month old.
So planning outings that are fun for all three and don't give me an anxiety attack is interesting. But I've decided to just DO IT. And it's been going well. We've been letterboxing, to a state park, shopping, and out to lunch with a friend visiting from Indiana. She was so funny--she's a grandma, and she just marveled at how difficult a simple Chick-Fil-A lunch was. I think 90% of my brain power goes to logistics--who to put in the car first. How to get both in the grocery store. How to unload groceries the fastest. How to bathe both at the same time. It's getting a little easier, but also harder in different ways.
We've been to the pool several times, but I hadn't had Addison and Jackson IN the pool by myself completely alone yet. But I did it. Yesterday. We had fun splashing, taking turns jumping in, playing on the stairs, and walking back and forth, talking to neighbors.
I decided to let Jackson sit at the table, 5 feet away, and play with cars, all the while I'm watching him, waiting for him to fall out of the chair and crack his head on the cement or climb down and bust out his front teeth. Yes, my mind still always goes to Worst Case Scenario. I don't think that will ever change.
As I'm helping Addison "swim" and keeping an eagle eye on Jackson, I was chatting with some neighbors who have their own special needs 3 year old. So they get it. They know it's not easy, and we were joking that there is no relaxing at the pool. Ever. And then the dad said..."Maybe in 10 years." I laughed, and said, "Yeah. Maybe."
Except this is where it gets complicated. Because I don't often think 10 years down the line. My brain can't wrap itself around 10 years from now. I can do the math, but I can't picture Addison at 17. There was a time I couldn't have pictured 7, and even comparing her to Addison of last summer is a HUGE difference. But 10 years???
And then my brain starts to go to the...we'll never be empty-nesters place. Sure, most people grieve when their kids leave, but in my brain, we'll never get to that point. Addison will always be with us. There will be no traveling when the kids are out of the house. Or date nights when they're in middle and high school. We won't take off for the weekend on a whim or have all of them out of the house at camp or sleepovers at once. And that's sad in a different way. It's like this long, difficult journey will never get easier.
Yes, I love it. But it is 1,000% exhausting. And most people live with the light at the end of the tunnel for their kids' childhoods. It makes me a little sad that we won't get that version of Normal.
But who knows. Maybe I'll be wrong in 10 years. Maybe.
