Dear 50 Year Old Me

Dear 2030 Me:

Do you miss your little babies?

Well... in a haze of exhaustion, let me write to you from 34 year old me....

Everyday I feel like I'm missing it--- the milestones come fast at these ages.  Especially the baby.  I sold the baby swing yesterday and cried.  I can't believe I've reached the mile marker where I'll never have a child small enough to go into a baby swing.  I can't believe I'll never be pregnant again even though I am not someone who enjoys pregnancy.  I'll never think up another baby name with my husband or wonder how long my labor will be or if the baby will come early or late.  I'll never get to be pregnant and still do agile and nutty things making people go, "Ahhh!  Don't do that!" I'll forever be trying to share my labor stories with pregnant moms in a desperate attempt to still feel part of the group still having babies.

I'm so tired I often snap at my kids, even when they are trying to show me something-- I can hear my 50 year old self saying, "in 10 years they will NOT want to share with you, so listen up NOW, you idiot!"  But, 2030 Emily... please remember... on this little sleep, with this many people needing you, hitting you, having all-out tantrums that wake the baby, inciting a tantrums in their sibling right when you calm #3 down, spilling things, strewing toys in their wake.... while all of this probably sounds like "cute" problems to have in the future... right now it is HARD.  Please don't 'grow up' and tell another mother to "enjoy every minute of this time".  It just makes them feel worse-- as if wearing sweatpants and snot encrusted shirts while being overweight, out of the loop, and exhausted doesn't feel lame enough... now we are supposed to ENJOY every minute.  It is tough to enjoy this time... I think it's made tougher knowing we will regret NOT enjoying it.  Who came up with this plan?  The "precious time" is the time when you are physically at your lowest.

I do have moments where gratitude overwhelms me.  Thank goodness for those.  Why is it when we have these moments we feel like we should be having MORE of them, and we feel guilty.  But, Sondheim really explained it best, "If life were only moments... then you'd never know you had one."

I think this is why my generation of moms over-snap the pictures... overdo it on Facebook and Instagram and Pinterest.  Maybe we feel the more we document, the less we are missing... or maybe just some ridiculous part of our brain thinks we can go back when we have time and enjoy it later. I am an only child and I maybe have 25 pictures of myself from birth to 10 years old.  Each of my kids have thousands.  I recently heard this advice, "Go ahead and take the picture, but then put the camera down and enjoy the rest of the experience."  But, 2030 Emily... when you look at all these pictures... don't forget the yelling and bribing beforehand trying to get everyone to look and smile... don't forget the immediate smack the middle one gave her older sister 2 seconds after the picture.  Don't forget poop was leaking out the side of the diaper onto your shirt that you had to wear around the zoo the rest of the day.  Don't forget you had a plugged duct and your boob was on fire that day.  Or that your pants were half peed from a  sneeze.  Or that your husband's eyelids kept drooping from exhaustion.  That you longed for a time when the kids could help with dinner, when no one was pooping their pants, and when everyone was tall enough to go on the ride so you didn't have to split up and could do something as a whole family.

So... even though you miss these sweet babies (and they are sweet)... remember at 34 you thought, "I can't wait to have a deep conversation with Zoe, I think she is going to be so tuned in to the world, I can't wait to hear her thoughts on stuff."  Or, "I can't wait til they can wipe their own tushies so I can finish (start?) my lunch without having to touch someone else's poop."  I can't wait to see what our family is like when we are all sitting at the dinner table talking with these three amazing kids who are becoming adults.  I can't wait to see if Teagan is still the performer she naturally is now, or if my always-wants-to-be-held baby grows into the sensitive man I imagine in my mind.  Remember, 2030 Emily-- you KNOW these 3 kids as actual grown(ish) people now-- you'd be going back and seeing them little but knowing them as they are now--- I only know the baby as a sweet non-talking, non-walking little friend.  I can't wait to know what his voice sounds like-- the kinds of things he's interested in, etc.

Also, don't forget... 34 year old me is out 16 years of the experience you have.  6+ years ago when I became a mom, I didn't have even one of the many tools I've acquired over the last 6 years.  It's easy for me to look at friends with just one baby and think how much easier their day is... but it isn't really true.  It would be easier for ME-- now, 6 years and 3 kids later.  But, when it was me with just one, I was navigating every tiny lesson.

And 15 years ago? 19 year old me?

Sure... If I could tell her to stop being so afraid of failure-- fail MORE, actually, you'll get better at stuff (and braver). Embrace feeling lonely, because it won't last, I promise.  But, you can't learn things til you learn them, you know?  You can't have the wisdom of 34 years at 19 years.  I can't be 50 year old me enjoying this time now.

So... Don't wish for these days... The saying is true, "the days are long but the years are short".  These days are freak in' loooooooong.  Especially 4-8pm--it's an all out battleground of chaos, loudness, and things to wipe!  I promise you I think about it everyday-- that I will miss these days soon enough, so to squeeze something out of everyday.  But it's tough to revel in the 'good ole days' when you are in the middle of them.  There are beds to strip at 4am because someone peed, dinners to make while holding a crying baby and sweating, a great novel or movie theater to look at longingly.  Most days I feel a pang of sadness when I look at my two older children sleeping and realize 80% of my energy has gone to the baby yet another day.  I feel like I'm missing so much of them because he needs me more right now-- I'm eager to fall back into a groove where I can give enough to each of them most days-- or at least be switching up who needs me most on any given day.  That you missed Zoe's school performance because it was at 7:30pm which is exactly when baby is nursing and going to bed, and it made more sense for Daddy to go.  That you missed baking Hamentaschen in the girls classes because it was smack during nap time.  That you wish you could be room mom, but you can't drag a 3 yr old and baby with you AND help a class full of 1st graders.

I do think it would be brilliant if we all got 10 days in our life to trade with future and past selves-- they'd HAVE to be mundane days-- nothing big could be changed-- just simply to enjoy them from afar.  (And to get some sleep... hey, 4 months postpartum it would be awesome to trade a day with 50 year old me when my teenagers are sleeping til 11am.)

I think the hardest part of parenthood is that you bring a flawed person to the job.  You're not having a baby at 75 years old... for me, I was in my late 20s when I became a mother... far from enlightened.  6+ years later, all I can say is that I've learned I have more to learn.

So, 2030 Emily... don't berate yourself for not enjoying these years more.  When you are well rested it's easy to shrug that off and say "even so...".  No!  Not 'even so'!  Sleep deprivation and having to meet 3 other people's basic needs is all-consuming--it's survival mode around here.  Don't forget about the long stretch of time when you're exhausted but too anxious to sleep because the baby wakes crying at 9pm, 11:10pm, 1am, 2:45am, 4am, 5am, and 6:40am and then you drag yourself to go grocery shopping only to have some older lady tell you,"enjoy this time, this is the best age!"... Is it?  Really?

Feel confident knowing 2014 me is doing her best.   Amongst too much TV, impatience, and nachos for lunch too often, I still get in tickle fights, tea parties, walks, surprise treats, cuddles, and abandoning the to-do list for some fun instead.  I'm proud just to be able to stay up past 10pm having interesting conversations with my husband.

I can't think of a good way to end this letter to you, so I'll leave you with a bit of Andy from the finale of The Office...

Love (and compassion),
2014 Emily