Today, while on my way to the dreaded Kroger, I passed Babies R' Us and got a little emotional. Don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely frickin' thrilled to be post baby. Babies are cute and cuddly, they dish out the 'ohh's' and 'goo's' like nobody's business, and they smell like sweet milk. Toddlers who sleep the night, feed themselves, and poop in the potty at least 12% of the time are even cuter. It took a long time for us to get Grace to this place of minimal self sufficiency and we love it. Oh, and I'm like the anti-christ on anything less than 7 hours of sleep.
But, passing Babies R' Us still touched a nerve. I really don't need much from that store anymore. No more bottles, no bibs or cute little newborn clothes. Grace walks most places we go and usually sits at the table, eliminating the over priced boosters and strollers. Jars of food, Puffs, and formula are long gone. Grace shops at Target, just like her Mama, and enjoys a happy meal from time to time. We're almost out of the diaper stage, and already wearing some little girl's clothes. Could this be the end of an era?
Grace isn't a baby, she's a kid.
But as they say, the grass is always greener, and you always want what you don't have. Suddenly after battling our way through the last two years, one sleepless night after another, scarlet fever, scrapped knees, and bottle after frickin bottle, how could I be feeling the urge to go back? Probably because that crisp green grass is fertilized with bullshit, oh and motherhood amnesia.
Making it through the first two years of parenthood demands a metal of honor, or at least one of those cheesy girl scout patches. Getting through the trials and tribulations of interpreting baby shit and pacifying the colicky baby isn't for the faint of heart. Sure they're adorable; who among us would disagree? But no amount of cute makes a five night sleepless crying bender any less sucky.
I'm sure at some point the scars of the baby years will fade and I'll forget just how painful the miracle of life was, and I'll be ready for another. But until then, I'll continue to fantasize about cuddling babies, the smell of newborn hair, the toothless little grins and the soft coo's of a sleeping infant, sans the sleepless nights, vomit stained shirts, and irrational screaming fits.
Oh, and if I could just skip the whole labor and delivery bit next time too, that would be terrific. K, thanks.