Wax Nostalgic

It is amazing to think about the rapidity of change in children. One second they are a helpless infant being held in your arms for the first time and the next moment they are leaving for college.

My little guy is not headed for the Ivy Leagues yet, but he is no longer a baby. He turned one this past week. How did that happen? It seems like yesterday that I reported the news of his arrival.

The past year has been such a blur. It's funny how when one is in the thick of things that an end does not seem in sight. When your toddler decides that she has to poop on the big potty and requires your assistance each and every time you sit down to nurse the newborn. When your toes curl in pain because you have a severely cracked nipple (a "deep pit" the lactation consultant called it). When you barely have a moment to relax before one of the two children awakes from their nap.

But somehow things run increasingly smoothly. The toddler is fully potty trained and no longer needs help. The pain of nursing is a distant memory and now nursing only brings closeness and pleasure. And regular nap schedules mean catching up on a DVR'ed show or checking e-mail.

I think momnesia, the forgetfulness that new moms seem to have, is twofold. Yes, it is easy to forget where you left your keys (in the door!) or that it was your turn to bring snack to preschool. But momnesia may also refer to how quickly we forget the hard work involved in nurturing a newborn and only remember with nostalgia how wonderful it was to hold the terrific little life that you created.

Over the past few weeks there have been several instances where I realized that babyhood is a thing of the past. The first was when he sat in his new booster seat at the table with his sister feeding himself Cheerios. The next when he took his bottle of milk into the living room and drank it all by himself. These are milestones that aren't marked in What to Expect the First Year, but are signs of growing independence that are at once to be celebrated and mourned. For it is at this time that his mother is no longer the center of his world. He can do for himself. He can entertain himself for an hour exploring the house, looking out the picture window at cars and people passing by, "reading" books, rolling the ball and chasing after it while squealing in delight, and zooming anything that has wheels across the hardwood floors.

I am no longer his sole source of nourishment, security, or entertainment. I mourn the loss of babyhood and dependence at the same time celebrating his budding personality and emergence into toddlerhood.

My boy is a one-year-old now and I am mother to a preschooler and a toddler.