Growing and Learning

Sometimes I find myself simply staring at the small, innocent face of my youngest daughter, marveling at the core of steel within. Amazed by how quickly she learns, and how much personality is packed into that 23-pound body.

“Owfet”

Because my two older children are technically my stepchildren, I did not get to be part of this stage of their lives. My eldest was 8 and my middle child 5 when I met their father. Still, I fell in love with them as much as I did with their Daddy. Circumstances led our family on a crazy dance for years, with counselors and diagnoses, visits from the police and Children’s Services, court hearings and orders and joy and heartbreak, IEP meetings and visits and protective orders. Things are calmer now, though not completely perfect. Yet… I am content. I’ve never been happier in my life. There are a few things that I could wish for, but I’d rather enjoy the now.

“Moofie”

The now that includes watching my son, 15 years, and my younger daughter, 19 months, play on the swing set, or snuggle and hug. That cannot wait to visit my older daughter, 19 years, and see her with her siblings again.

But the toddler – I never knew I could like little kids. I never really did. I have no siblings, didn’t babysit much as a teen, and basically wasn’t interested. I knew I wanted to be a Mommy, but it was purely selfish. Things have changed. I’d give anything for my children. I’d take a bullet for them – or use one if necessary. Having a baby at age 39 made that feeling stronger if anything. I loved the older two… But adding a third at least tripled the love.

“Buggle”

“Boobays”

I wish I could have seen the other two learn how to walk and how to imitate, and heard their first words. The toddler is adding words at an incredible pace right now – this morning she identified an animal as an “owfet” without me saying anything. If there’s water on the floor, it’s “methie”; she adores playing “ouside” or watching a “moofie”. And then for breakfast she had “boobays” in a cup with a “buggle” on the side.

She’s opinionated as all get out. If you want her to wear a certain pair of shoes, you better hope they are the ones she wants to wear as well. She wants to share food – on her terms. “Beebee” has to have “banket” and she loves to stand in front of the dispenser and ask for “ice”. The dog is “Bahtah”, one cat is “Eye-tha”, and she refuses to call her brother any name at all.

And, yes, she is the resident safety expert. She insists that the baby gates be closed, even if we are leaving, and that all cabinet locks are put on and closed properly. Doors must be shut (even if we are trying to get some air in the house).

“Packo”

And when she is being diapered, she frequently requests “packo”. (Resinol looks like dental impression media and has the consistency of wall spackle.)

I’m kind of glad I missed the eldest’s poop art… But otherwise, seeing the baby grow up (so very quickly), and knowing I get to help pack this one’s baggage… Helps.

Especially when I tell the guests at her wedding about her love of “boobays”.

Having Kids…

I have wanted to be a Mommy for most of my life. As far back as I can remember. When I was 16, I picked out my future daughter’s name. When I was married to my first husband, I worked at Target, and picked out a few baby items when they hit clearance… And stored them away.

Thirty came and went. My mental cutoff was thirty-five; no way was I having a kid any later. The good news about thirty, though, is that that was the year I met my current husband, and my two older kids. They were eight and five at the time, and they spent most of the time with their biological mother.

We scheduled the wedding for a weekend when we’d have the kids. I already loved them with everything I had. I gave up on being “Mommy”, though, and settled into being “Mom”. And “Casey”. We gradually got more and more time with the kids, until they were living with us and visiting their biomom.

I got to take the kids to the doctor and to school; pick them up when they were sick; argue about homework; dispense Tums and ibuprofen and nasty pink liquid antibiotics. I got to nag about chores and laundry. So, I got to be a parent in every way that mattered. Except… Something was missing.

And then through the miracle of science, I was able to have a biological child of my own. And this is what I’ve learned…

• Slimy open-mouth kisses (sometimes with teeth) are really sweet.
• Having a secret bed-time ritual with a tween (in our case, tickling hands) is really important.
• Taking a teenager out for her first time driving a stick shift will scare them more than you. And it’s fun. Pee first. Especially if you’re pregnant.
• A naked toddler peeing on the floor is hilarious the first three times… Pooping in the tub is only funny once.
• Hearing “I love you” from a teenager is the sweetest music ever for a mother.
• Being called names really hurts. Being apologized to afterward feels really good.
• No matter how much you think you love your husband, your children will make you love him more (if you don’t kill him first). And your younger children will make you love your older children more.
• Snot is far more disgusting than poop. And stickier.
• It’s fun to lay on the floor and kick your legs in the air for no reason.
• Watching your teenager and toddler together will make your heart all gooey and melty.
• No matter what you do, your children will make mistakes. They have to if they are to grow up. Sometimes they make really bad mistakes. There’s a fine line between helping and enabling. If you can’t take anymore, put the kid somewhere they will be safe and walk away. Sometimes this is a crib, sometimes their room, and sometimes… You just have to let them walk away from you.