Stuck In The Middle of In-Between

Sometimes, when I'm outside in that big, wide world, I might see a little, bitty baby. My ovaries will twitch, I get that urge to smell "newborn baby head smell" again, and I feel a little sad that I'm never going to create a brand new human to take care of again. And then my sticky three year old will grab my hand, loudly demanding a 'nack because he's "just a little hungry" and I think, "OH HELL NO! I'm definitely done with all of this!"

It's tough right now because I'm in the "in-between" phase. The last baby is still young enough that I can get away with calling him the baby without (many) people pointing out the fact that he's NOT a baby anymore, but he's also starting to make that transition from toddler-ness to little boy-ness.

It causes some conflict.

I'm torn between trying to keep him my sweet little baby boy and wanting him to hurry the hell up and go to kindergarten already so I can stop blowing his college fund on his daycare expenses. I want to keep him in footie pajamas but I want him to be able to go to the bathroom completely by himself (You know, without me having to help wipe his butt!). I want sweet snuggles while watching Bubble Guppies, yet I never want to see Bubble Guppies EVER. AGAIN. (Or at least until they make new episodes that I haven't seen forty five times each.) I want to keep buying clothes in the baby/toddler section, but I also want to be able to live life without planning around nap schedules.

I'm telling you, the struggle is real. But apparently only with moms. My husband doesn't seem to get as nostalgic over "the last time we'll have a kid in a crib" or the "the last time we have to have cash on us at all times once they turn 5, for, uh, dental emergencies". I see those sappy "spend time with your children before it's too late!" articles and I feel like time is moving too quickly. (You know the ones that are designed to make you feel like you aren't a good enough parent if you aren't appreciating every millisecond of time spent with your kid, if you don't worship the ground their tiny toes walk on, and if you don't count every waking moment as a gift? The ones that make us regular parents feel awful and spiral downward into a neverending cesspool of parental guilt that we might be able to climb out of with ten years of liquid, retail, and/or chocolate therapy? Yeah, those ones.) My husband scrolls past those sappy articles to find the sports scores. I see kindergarten as the end of his baby years, my husband sees it as an opportunity to know what it feels like to have money again once daycare is over.

So here I am, stuck in the middle of this age and that age.

OF COURSE there's a name for it. Because why wouldn't there be?

I want to remember all the things about this sweet time that I have already forgotten about his siblings. (See? THIS is why they make baby books. For Swiss cheese mom brain. And so we have something to get misty eyed over until they give us grandchildren.) I want to preserve every moment that he loves his mama because one day he'll be too big to want to cuddle and show me his monster "crucks".

And yet....is empty nest syndrome really so bad? I mean, what are we missing out on? Higher grocery bills? Not being able to have nice furniture without stains, rips, or crumbs in the cushions? Being able to sleep past 6:30 in the morning again? One day we'll look back at these days and smile, but...let's just get through them first.

So for now, I guess I'll enjoy each day stuck in the middle. One day it will end and he will turn into a heathen like his brothers and sister before him. He will doubt my judgement, consider me old, and roll his eyes behind my back. Until then, I guess I'll settle in for one more episode of those silly old guppies.