It Gets Easier... Sort Of

I read someone else's blog, yesterday, about what happens when we tell new mothers "it gets easier." Their angle suggested that you should never say that because it's not true. Or rather, not that it's untrue but that it's easily misinterpreted as meaning "things will get back to the way they were". By their theory, things don't get "easier" but you simply get better at parenting and things change.

I don't disagree with this. I do think that the phrase "it gets easier" is easily misinterpreted. I definitely imagined something very different than what turned out to be reality when I heard it. I also think that parents tend to overlook how things have actually gotten quite a bit easier over the years. It's easy to forget that we start with infants who need everything done for them... that even when we have a screaming, obstinant, three-year-old the truth is that at the very least she can feed herself, she's probably at least partially potty trained, and she's interested in a lot of the same things that we are interested in ourselves.

And we do get better at our job. I always thought that getting better at what you're doing was the root of all tasks getting easier.

Sure, the obstacles and difficulties don't simply disappear. They do in fact just changed to new obstacles and difficulties. We look forward to the day when our children gain independence but then, when they do, we worry about them instead of rejoicing.

Having just had another baby five months ago, I am remembering the things that I miss from M's infancy and also the challenges that face a mother with a baby. It is now remarkably more difficult to go shopping, to go swimming, to garden, to eat dinner, to sleep. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed being able to finish my own dinner without being interrupted, and sleeping for a full eight hours straight.

An infant needs you even at the most inconvenient times to do basically everything for him. A three-year-old needs you to remind her of the rules almost constantly. A six-year-old needs you to enforce the rules because she's starting to learn that she can get away with breaking them when you're not looking.

An infant doesn't need you to make dinner for him but requires that you change his diaper. The three-year-old doesn't need you to remind her to go potty but you have to watch her carefully in parking lots. The six-year-old doesn't need you to keep her entertained at all times but requires help with her homework or, if you're homeschooling, her entire education.

To me, it feels like things have gotten easier. But I suppose it depends heavily on what you consider to be the most difficult challenges. I would much prefer watching the three-year-old in the parking lot and educating the six-year-olds rather than losing sleep and being interrupted by the hungry wails of the baby every hour or two.

However, what the cub does to make up for all of his many demands is payment enough. His smiles, his giggles, his adorable infant behaviors sometimes make me wish that he would remain my little cub for years to come even if it means spit up and soiled diapers all the while.

I do remember what it was like to be a new mom (with premature twins, when I was 19, mind you). I remember panicking about every little thing, losing sleep, and wishing my kids would just grow up and become independent. I waited anxiously for every milestone, thinking once they could sit up, once they could feed themselves, once they could walk... then maybe I would have some more time to myself. But sitting up freed them to make bigger messes, feeding themselves turned to them hating all of my favorite meals, and walking... if you have children, you know what comes of walking. Now, I wish the time would slow down and I could enjoy every first. I have pictures of the cub smiling, grabbing his toes, of the first time he put his toes in his mouth.

Maybe I've just become less selfish.

So I guess what I'm saying is I'm not sure it gets easier. Like anything else, you have to take the good with the bad. At least for me, the truth has been that I have simply learned to appreciate the difficult times. I'm not always happy. Sometimes I don't get enough sleep and I become intolerable. But I do cherish the time that I get to spend with my infant, my three-year-old, and my six-year-olds.

Six years into motherhood, and I can say that I have felt like the time was both going to fast and not fast enough.