Being a Mom is Sad

Here's one of Gabby's cute Olive Us videos. 2-year-old June is adorable.
How To Be 2 from Olive Us on Vimeo.

I almost don't want to watch things like this or reminisce about my own kids at age 2 because they'll never be 2 again. I love having older kids. It's rewarding and interesting and fun. But I understand why people keep having babies. 1) Babies are cute. 2) You feel old when you don't have babies anymore. It's sad to say goodbye to babies, even though you are saying hello to new adorable ages.

You forget that unless you are wonderful and healthy and of sound mind and functioning at full capacity and have a great attitude and a rosy outlook and have lots of help and don't need much sleep you (and by "you" I mean "me" or in this case, "I") won't fully appreciate how adorable kids are at the time. You (and by "you" I mean "me" or in this case "I") might feel a little strung out during that sweet phase of life I call 4 year old 2 year old and pregnant year old—it's the epitome of one of the hardest stages of mothering. I wasn't depressed or sad or unhappy when I had little kids, but when I was in that stage I didn't have the wherewithal to be reflective and appreciative of it. Then it's a double loss when the stage passes because not only did your babies grow up, you didn't even appreciate them while you had them.

"You'll miss this stage," smug old ladies used to say to me when I was drenched in pit stains and carrying a car seat and a toddler and neither of them were behaving. Thanks a lot. It still makes me mad. Why kick me when I'm down with a reminder that these children will grow in all their glory and in spite of me and when that happens I will not only miss them but also suffer from regret? Dude, we're in line at Walmart. Who do you think you are?

But those smug old baby-free ladies—a group to which I now belong—weren't exactly right. I don't miss my babies. They are still here. And, unlike some people who do feel a genuine baby hunger much more than I do, I don't want to go back to that time or relive that time. It was hard and trying. It was cute and cuddly. It was what it was. I'm reaping mostly benefits of those early days (all my children use toilets now) and some of my mistakes are cropping up (Ellen is spoiled—but as the last one, what's the alternative? I'm sure I don't know).

Now is fun too. I will miss now someday. You know? Life goes on. It's a joy, but tempered with heartache.