My youngest daughter will turn two at the end of this month. When I give that sweet, flaxen-haired girl a goodnight kiss on the eve of her second birthday, I will say goodbye to what’s been the most challenging year of my life — having two children under two years of age. I feel like I should put another, more encouraging descriptor in the previous sentence: perhaps “rewarding” or “joyful” (but I’m not there yet).
There hasn’t been much to balance out the difficulty of this past year. It has been HARD. It’s been lonelier than when, as a single mother, I moved across the country with my three-month-old daughter to a city where I knew no one. It’s been more exhausting than working full-time and completing a Ph.D. with a toddler at home.
Since last September when my son was born, I have struggled with immense guilt at not being able to fully cherish each and every one of the small moments of my children’s babyhoods. I’m an older mother; my son was born one month before my 40th birthday. I feel like I should be especially grateful for these two small miracles my husband and I were gifted with in our race against time.
But when a well-meaning person comments on how I should enjoy this phase because it doesn’t last long, I mutter “Thank goodness!” under my breath. This just happened last week, so I’m not writing about any major insights or profound shifts in thinking that have helped me.
Aside from “always, always, always bring snacks,” I don’t have any groundbreaking tips. (If you do, please send them my way!) However, here are a few realizations that have allowed me to manage this phase. I say manage, not thrive or succeed, because it’s just been about survival at our house.
Two Under Two Lessons
1. Let go of the guilt.
You can love your children more than life and still dread that one hour of hell each day when you’re alone with a crying and nursing newborn and a toddler whose mission it is to remove every spatula, measuring cup, and whisk from all cabinets and cupboards she can reach on her tiptoes.
Acknowledging the drudgery in parenthood doesn’t, for a second, make you a less engaged or a less present parent. It doesn’t make you less of anything. It’s okay.
2. Take time to acknowledge the sweet moments when they do occur.
At the end of each night, I ask my oldest daughter what she is thankful for about the day. I’ve now adopted this habit for myself. Sometimes we need the quiet and stillness that comes at the end of the day to have the capability of seeing the good. And I’ve found there is always good — it’s just that I may have an easier time seeing it after the babies are asleep.
3. There is encouragement in knowing there is not only an end to the chaos of these days, but this is also a beginning to something very special.
When my daughter makes her baby brother laugh or sings to him when he’s upset . . . these things give me hope that the challenge of my children’s spacing is going to give way to a deep and lifelong friendship.
4. Continue to invest in your other relationships.
My husband and I have gotten creative. As we both work full-time and are fortunate enough to have an amazing nanny, we take advantage of the time we have together. For instance, we now make lunch reservations at our favorite restaurant, Chez Nous, to celebrate special occasions — instead of asking for a table at 8 p.m. We also make a point to connect at some point before bed, even if it’s just a conversation with our toes touching on the ottoman as we’re sprawled out and exhausted on separate couches.
I’ve found I am more intentional in my interactions with my seven-year-old daughter, as well. I make the most of car rides on the way to school and we often stop for a treat (the staff at LB Sweets & Treats know my daughter by name) before picking up the babies to have some treasured one-on-one time.
5. Delay, delegate, and deny.
This is a tip the Harvard Business Review offers busy professionals. I’ve found it works well in motherhood. Can we delay the dance class that meets four times a week until next year? Can the laundry wait until after I take a much-needed nap (my husband would tell you I don’t delay in answering in the affirmative)? Can I delegate cleaning to a service or ask my husband to pick up the kids? Can I deny the request to bring in the vegan, nut-free, and gluten-free cupcakes for the class party, or to attend an out-of-town work conference (although I may be tempted to give an enthusiastic “Yes!” to that one)? Asking myself these three types of questions helps me focus my time and attention on what’s most important.
6. Offer yourself grace upon grace.
I signed up for the Cooper River Bridge Run, thinking it would be a great motivator to get back in shape after my son was born. I ran once around our neighborhood. I didn’t run over the Ravenel Bridge.
We moved into our new home over a year ago, and when our dear realtor mentioned stopping by to see the changes we made, I thought, “Well, we got our furniture moved in. So, there’s that.” But I’m now realizing it’s okay that I’m still wearing jeans with elastic in them and our bathroom remains that hideous shade of red.
You can’t do everything at once, and I think we’ve focused on our biggest priorities. That bridge isn’t going anywhere. There’s always another time for the things that aren’t currently the most important, but there won’t always be time for these kids to be my babies. I’m not saying “no” to hikes and runs and house projects and ultra-challenging professional endeavors forever, just for a time.
And just like that, I’m approaching the moment when I will kiss that time and that sweet girl goodbye and good night.
