A Tough Age in Diaperville

When it comes to kids, there are always a few stages that are tougher than others. The terrible threes. (Yes, I said threes. Two’s were terrific. It wasn't until three with the “I can do it myself” tantrums that I started wanting to pull my hair out.) When they meet their new best friend “Not Me”. The teen years. There’s one age that I consider to be the hardest, however, and I promise it’s not because I’m smack dab in the middle of it right now. It’s the in-between stage. In between what? Sitting and walking.


When your baby’s first born, you can plop that little miracle anywhere and trust that they’ll be there when you come back from the bathroom, the kitchen, the closet you hide from your older kids in. Which is a good thing since you’re still recovering from birth and the up-at-all-hours-of-the-night thing. I think that’s God’s way for new moms to not lose the baby. You only have so many brain cells left after pregnancy, labor, and taking care of the precious new bundle.


For the first few months, life is GREAT! You have so many devices for that child that you rotate just to amuse yourself since they’re probably only eating, sleeping, and/or pooping in said piece of equipment. The swing, the bouncy seat, the bassinet/cradle/co-sleeper/play pen, the exersaucer, the stroller…..you have options baby! Until those wily little creatures start eliminating those options. One by one.


Like the day they learn to roll over. Now you can’t leave the baby anywhere other than flat surfaces because you’re terrified that they’ll roll off somewhere. (Although how do you usually know they can roll? When they roll off the bed/couch/chair and make you feel like the worst parent in the history of parents and you spend a week spoiling them until you talk to other parents and find out their kid rolled off of something too so you must be normal. Or at least not the worst parent ever.) And I don’t know about your kids but mine rolled before they sat up. So I couldn't set them up on a nice, cushy floor without 20 pillows surrounding them just in case they topple over. Which they will because they can’t sit up unassisted yet. So you think you’re being clever, setting them on the floor with an entire bedding section as well as half an infant toy section, dreaming your big dreams about getting the dishes done while the heavenly angel plays on the floor. Except you have to look every 30 seconds to make sure they didn't topple and smack their head, or jam a toy in an eye or nose, or scoot themselves next to an outlet that they can stick a metal tin soldier in and electrocute themselves. (Hey, a Momagination is a scary thing!) So you don’t get much accomplished other than a few gray hairs and maybe some heart palpitations when you thought they managed to make contact with a surface other than the 10 square feet of pillows.


Rolling also takes away the option for those handy, dandy play mats with the dangly parts that you could plop them under and let them be mesmerized by the lights and colors and music for 45 minutes while you remembered what it’s like to eat a hot meal.


Then they’re hot shots who can sit up and it’s amazing! Except now that removes the swing and the bouncy seat from the list because they're too dangerous once they learn how to lean forward. That is if they were still on the list and they didn't get too tall/heavy/motion sick before this. But you’re slightly mollified because at least the can sit up alone now and you can put them on the floor with 14 pillows instead of 20 and only look once every 49 1/2 seconds.


It’s at this point you realize you can only put them in the high chair, on the floor, in the crib/play pen, or in the exersaucer/walker/whatever toy you got at your shower to entertain and hold the baby’s diapered bottom so you can do awesome things like shower and go to the bathroom. (Unless it’s the First Child, in which case you might have gotten a case of New Momitis and don’t know you don’t need every piece of baby equipment just because someone thought it up.) But your little cutie pie will only be happy for an average of 13 minutes with each activity until you realize one day that it took an entire day to wash 4 dishes and fold half a load of laundry because YOU were the baby’s entertainment. Yes, YOU got to be a three ring circus for your child, shuffling them from one activity to another, holding them, rocking them, feeding them, cleaning them, changing them, begging them to go down for a nap so you can shower the spit up and strained carrots off of yourself. You start to wish they would crawl because then they’ll be able to entertain themselves at least, even if it is with every single dust ball, stone, dog toy, and small object you didn't know was under the couch until they tried to put it in their mouth. Basically, you’ll wish they could crawl until they actually do.

But for right now, you’re in the in-between stage. And it’s exhausting.

The best, most half-assed circus EVER!