Five years ago, my son was almost one month old.
I had a difficult labour that "failed to progress" resulting in a caesarean. At the time, I was devastated about the C-section because it "wasn't in my plan."
Being on the Type-A controlling-all-things spectrum, I had definite ideas about what my labour was going to be like (easy), what gender my baby was (a girl), how nursing was going to go (really easy) and about what type of mom I would be (really patient).
So, that didn't happen. Five years ago, my baby was losing weight, nursing was not going well and I was losing my mind with fatigue. However, like in all things, eventually everything baby got a little easier and although I am still sleep-deprived, most days I am not a crazy lunatic.
People always say you forget about how it was when your babies were little, but I don't think that is entirely true.
For me, when I look back at how it was five years ago I remember being terrified, all the time, that my son would stop breathing if I wasn't watching him. I remember taking photo after photo of him doing nothing and just looking at me. I remember breast-feeding and pumping and supplementing feeding and doctor's appointments and lactation consultants and I remember him, my son, being wee. He was so very small.
I am a little bit maudlin because somewhere in the last five years, my husband and I grew a person who is old enough to go to kindergarten in a couple weeks.
There will be people reading this article scoffing and rolling their eyes at yet, another mommy blog talking about how much the kids have grown and where has the time gone.
Nothing that I am experiencing or talking about is new or unique in any way. It is part of the experience that every parent has during significant milestones in your child's life. Every generation of parents has this experience and I still remember walking to my elementary school with my best friend with our moms walking behind us sobbing but they were not allowed to walk with us because we were grown up, excited and ready to go to school.
Now I get to experience this with my son who cannot wait to go to school. But, I am here to tell you readers that my generation of parents has it worse off than my parent's generation when it comes to sending your child off to kindergarten and it all boils down to two words: gradual entry.
For those not in the parenting game or who haven't experienced the wonder of planning for gradual entry for your child, I will brief you on the details.
Some time at the beginning of August, just in time to wreck your summer, a package from your child's school comes. Within it, is a colour-coded schedule of two weeks of daycare hell with an assortment of other cute stuff and forms to fill out.
The schedule though, the schedule is what will wreck your summer.
The first day of school is one hour.
The second day of school is one hour.
The third day of school is one-hour and fifteen minutes.
Then it's the weekend.
The following week is more complicated with two hour blocks in the middle of day and then a morning and then an afternoon all gradually increasing in time. Thankfully, the school gives you a handy list letting you know what to bring on which day (snack, backpack, lunch...straightjacket for mom). This gradual entry is designed to best help prepare your child for the rigors of school and I am sure that is true and probably helpful for most children.
However, when you have a child like mine who is the farthest thing from shy and has no interest in staying at home when there are new friends at school, it will be a challenging few weeks. I have heard from a friend of mine now that school starts, I can kiss all of my holidays goodbye because most daycares follow the school calendar and the kids are off from school frequently.
I am preparing myself for the next stage in my life by calling in every favour I have for someone to be able to pick up and/or drop off my son in the first few special weeks of his life, and it's going to be great.
I remember when I was pregnant thinking about all of projects that I would finish on my maternity leave. Now when I catch a glimpse of that unfinished scrapbook or sewing project hidden in the corner, I gloss my eyes over the chaos and ignore my naivety while looking for the next-sized box of children's clothes.
Sure, of course I'll have time to write a novel, build eight Pinterest projects and make dinner. It will be fun since, you know, I'm off work.
Now though, with my son in school, maybe I can get some of those projects moving again.
There will be time.
