You’ll miss it when…

No, I won’t.

The sentence beginning “you’ll miss it when…” is often finished with a nostalgic sigh and almost always meant with good intentions. A reminder that the time will pass and that the moment should be cherished. But in itself, that sentiment creates a bubbling guilt if you aren’t enjoying every single day of your parenting journey.

And to say you enjoy it all would be a lie. There is absolutely no way a parent can, hand on heart, declare that they have enjoyed every day they have been a parent. In fact, now more than ever I am ending the day on the wrong side of success, feeling I have let my children down rather than raising them up. The days are challenging, monotonous but still rewarding and that complex combination makes for an emotionally charged life.

And in these moments, when I’m feeling low, with no patience left and my emotional battery completely drained, the last thing I like to hear is that I’ll miss these days. It’s always presented in a romanticised and broadstroke form, remembering the times of yesteryear when the speaker of “you’ll miss it when…” offers it to you. They have of course forgotten the day to day trauma of screaming toddlers, mealtime battles, sibling refereeing, and repeating “kind hands kind feet!” in a sing-song voice one hundred times a day. They’re just remembering the cuddles at bedtime and the cute way they waddle-walked and when they still had their baby teeth and chubby cheeks.

The thing is, parenting is messy. So many aspects of it are all tangled together and interwoven so tightly that you’re just a hair’s breadth between euphoria and chaos. Yes, I will miss their faces as they light up, looking to me for all the answers, but no, I will not miss their total reliance on me for everything and anything. I’ll miss their beautiful sleepy faces as they wake from their deep sleep, but I promise you I won’t miss seeing that three times a night every single night. I’ll miss the unconditional and unquestioning love, but I’ll welcome them challenging me and waving goodbye to the stifling feeling of being a slave to two tiny gingers.

And such is the way with parenting, and in fact being a human; everybody is different. That is why some people just love the baby phase, they love that need and almost desperate and urgent reliance, whereas for me, it makes my chest constrict to just think about that time. And when I had a crying baby glued to me all the time I did not once think, wow I’m really going to miss this. Being told that I’d miss Alice being that small, that I should soak up every moment, made me feel worse. I felt I wasn’t a great mum because I was wishing the months away, desperately waiting for parenting to become easier and more enjoyable. And now it has, I do not once think I miss my children being under one. Even with Jack, who was a happy baby! But each parenting experience is different, and perhaps right now I’m too close to their babyhood to mourn it. But I have two little people now, two extra personalities in my home.

Even in this phase, I won’t miss it all. And that is ok. It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for my children, or not fully immersing myself in motherhood. It’s because I am that there are some not-so-good bits. Because being a parent means taking it all on day in, day out: the good, the bad and the ugly. But I’ll look forward to ten years time when I see someone with a toddler, and I’ll cock my head to the side and just sigh. I’ll have forgotten about wiping bums, irrational tantrums and fights over various plastic tat. And I’ll look at that mum and tell her “they grow up so quickly, you’ll miss it when they’re older”.

Just as an aside…

I did have a wonderful experience with a taxi driver on the walk home from school with Jack bawling in the pram and Alice screaming walking alongside him. The man went to the effort of stopping his car, rolling down his window and saying “wow, I don’t miss that”. At least he was honest!