July 13, 2004
Thoughts on Three
Today is Jake’s third birthday. On Friday, July 13, 2001, Isaac Jacob Quigley was born at High Point Regional Hospital. At 7:58 pm, he rushed into the world at 8 pounds, 9 ounces. He cried like all babies do, then peed on his father twice. He’s not a particularly fussy child…but he hasn’t stopped peeing since.
It’s difficult for me to wrap my mind around the fact that we have made it three years. A good friend had a son two weeks ago. When we talked last Sunday, she asked me, “What advice do you have to get me through the first month?” Wow. What could I possibly say? I have no idea what I did say, but let’s imagine that she’d phrased her question differently.
“Becky, you’ve been a parent for three years now. What advice do you have to get my new son and I happily through the next three years?”
Well. Here’s what I would say. First of all, your suffering at the beginning will end and when you look back on it, it will seem vague and actually pretty funny. You’ll chuckle a little at your friends when they experience the first four months of no sleep and runny poop and sore boobs. While you think that first trial period will last forever, it really really won’t. And when you get through that time, life suddenly speeds up. I know you don’t believe it, but it’s true. Someday your son will sleep through the night. Someday he will go to the potty all by himself. Someday he’ll run around the house (quite possibly naked), giving equal time to fighting the Green Goblin and balrogs. Someday he’ll tell you quite clearly, “I love you Mommy. You’re my best friend.”
Were I asked to give my oh-so-sage advice, I’d also say this: It’s okay to not be perfect. Babies and young children are challenging. The words, “No!” and later, “I don’t care. I do it anyway,” are difficult to hear over and over. My best friend once put it like this, “No one wants to be hit again and again all day long. It’s human nature to get frustrated.” That is most certainly true, and I remind myself of this…oh, I don’t know, some days it’s an hourly mantra. When I feel like I’m the worst mother in the world (and yes, that’s also sometimes an hourly thought), I’ve discovered this beautiful solution. The phone. Call someone who loves you and will listen. Don’t call that perfect mother you know whose children always have stainless clothes and multi-grain bread. Call the ones who will understand, who will get it. And keep in touch with those who knew you before you were a mother. Sometimes you’ll forget what it’s like to be your own person. Call the people who remember you as you.
And more advice? Laugh and play. Jake and I have these moments that I call “Good Mommy Moments.” We play in his pool together and I think, “Yeah, this is right.” We pack a picnic and go to the park to hear music and I remember, “This is what I wanted Motherhood to be like.” We paint together, go walking together, do yoga together, drink tea together, nap together, read together. These moments mean so much more than the tough times. I see in these times the boy he has become and I am amazed.
Oh, that’s good advice in itself: be amazed. Jake’s strong personality has shown through in this last year, and I am continually impressed with his…independent self. His thoughts are his own and his interests are his own. He is a super-extrovert, talking to anyone and everyone who will respond (or not, it doesn’t matter). We’ve made friends in the oddest places. I was a very shy child and tend toward shyness now. I’d rather just walk on by, thanks, without speaking. I had no idea my son would be so different. And I am so grateful to see his ease in conversation. May it always last.
Jake’s birthday party will be this coming Sunday. We’re doing a pirate theme, to match his latest obsession. The cake will be shaped like a treasure chest and each child will find his/her party favors at the end of a treasure map. If we could, we’d rent a pirate ship for the day and sail it to the Caribbean…
Just before Jake’s first birthday, I cried a lot. I couldn’t believe a year was gone so soon. I look back on that first year and think, “Thank God that’s over.” Just before Jake’s second birthday, I was excited and eager. If age one was so much fun, two must be that much better. I was right about that. Now I look ahead to our year of threedom and wonder. How much better can it possibly get? But then I know. Over the next year, Jake will discover new thrills, new ideas, new adventures, and new friends. He will learn more and teach me more. He will become more independent and yet still need me. He will probably remember things from this next year into his adult life. He will become more himself and less me.
I’m ready for three. Bring it on.
