My Eras of Motherhood (so far)
A story for every parent out there struggling to hang on to every milestone
If Taylor Swift has got her Eras Tour full swing, then I’ve got my Eras of Motherhood in full swing too. And it’s hitting me like a ton of bricks that my baby is not an infant any longer. And that as one charmed chapter of his innocent babyhood ends with some mornings at Play Group and another at Forest Group, another chapter in Kindergarten is about to begin.
Maybe you’re like me and you’re thinking, how did this happen? How did those seemingly endless days of magic (and also stress) alone with baby come to an end, as if I had just blinked, and it was all done?
Don’t get me wrong — I am excited about the possibility that I’ll have five free mornings to myself — five! I can use two mornings of those to further my German, helping me feel further entrenched and sure of myself in Zurich. I can spend mornings at the gym and get fit again. I can even take a copywriting course. Oh, the possibilities to grow are endless, and I’m looking forward to that part.
But it will also mean forcing ourselves to wake up every morning to trudge to school. No more “days off” from child care, when my little one and I could sleep in on Thursday and Friday mornings.
It will mean more goodbyes.
It will mean more and more time, slowly and steadily, as surely as the sun rises and sets, that my little boy will spend time away from me. Which is inevitable.
As I stood on the threshold between the daycare era (or full-time mommying era) and the Kindergarten Era, I realized that I’d better jot down these Phases of Motherhood, before I forget. Because just when we celebrate one milestone with our babies, another one’s just around the corner.
Era One: Year 1
You are born. You and your father and I exist in a cocoon of special magic, as if we are the only three people in the world — it certainly feels that way, as CoVid hits the world with a vengeance, and even shopping for groceries becomes a Special Mission.
We are tired, but that doesn’t really hit me until six months in, when I am desperate for a break and find a program that can take you for three hours, without requiring an adjustment period. You cry, but I can breathe, and it makes me a fitter, better mom.
Era Two, Year 2:
Shortly after you turned one, we begin entering The Frightening World of Playgrounds. Frightening because you’re so determined to walk like the bigger boys who can chase after pigeons, but I can see that your motor skills are not yet up to speed.
We spill blood from cut lips from many a fall during this season.
But then you turn two, and it’s as if that number were a rite of passage — suddenly, you seem better able to handle yourself over slippery stones and slides, and I can turn my eye towards our mom friend and her second newborn, while you and her son play together for up to ten to twenty minutes. It’s a huge gift for all of us involved.
Era Three, Year 3:
I’ve already forgotten, because there were so many milestones. You’ve already endured long-haul flights from Zurich to Singapore and Manila. Not many children can say that.
You travel between countries and cultures, just like your Mama and Papa.
You are confident on your Laufrad, or strider, and we start working on the pedal bike. You start speaking a lot, and start choosing English over Filipino when speaking with me, and remain consistent with Czech with your father. I worry about your German, and so we work on another separation — a third morning in child care, this time,
in the wilderness of the forest, with nettles and mosquitoes and caterpillars and frogs and snowy ravines.
And though our adjustment periods were six weeks of tear-filled farewells, I could see how much that third morning away from me has allowed your German language skills to flourish. Finally, I no longer need to worry about how equipped you will be with the vernacular when you enter Kindergarten.
Era Four, Year 4:
I made the mistake of inviting too many adults to your party, without consulting you first. By the time you gave me requests for little people to invite, whom you admired, I was no longer able to oblige some of those requests. Look at you, able to handle listening to your father read you books for six-year olds in his target language. I clamour to find similar books for you in my own target languages.
We are on the precipice, my piglet.
We are about to end your season as a child of pre-Kindergarten age. You’ve been invited to two Farewell parties — at your play group and forest group! Then summer begins, and those will be our last weeks of full freedom, before you are ushered into the world of education. I will miss you when you’re off to school every morning, yet I will be glad for the time for you and I to develop on our own.
