Every new parent has likely heard the advice to establish a routine and stick to it. I certainly did, especially after the arrival of my first child. With two more kids joining the family shortly after, I yearned for some semblance of order amid the chaos. Finding a routine became my lifeline during those hectic days.
Of course, that didn’t mean every day unfolded smoothly. In fact, those perfect days become rare once you have children, particularly when you have more than one. You can’t rely on them to sleep or eat according to any schedule you envision, and you never know when a diaper disaster will strike—usually right after you’ve settled them in their high chairs at a restaurant. All you can do is prepare for these mishaps, which is often a gamble.
During those early years, I held tightly to our routine. It was my anchor. Even if lunch devolved into chaos—one child refusing to eat, another crying because their apple wasn’t sliced correctly—I could at least count on nap time coming soon. Whenever a child became cranky at the grocery store, I could usually distract them with a snack or drink. I knew their favorite TV shows and understood that if dinner prep got interrupted by a sudden need for a clean diaper, I could set things aside and return later. Emergencies took precedence; everything else could wait.
I learned this lesson quickly. As mothers, we often complicate our lives by trying to accomplish everything. But I knew where my kids were (usually underfoot) and that they were safe. I felt capable of navigating the day-to-day challenges, even when things didn’t go my way—as long as I had a general idea of what to expect next.
The dirty dishes could pile up. The laundry and unmade beds could be ignored for days if we were unwell. I could turn on the TV and hand my kids fruit snacks while I took a moment for myself to read, bake, or just breathe. It didn’t matter if we stayed in our pajamas for days on end.
I could load them into the car, strap them into their seats (and hope one would doze off), and hit up a drive-thru for a caffeine boost, sitting in the parking lot to gather my thoughts. There were moments when they cried, and I let them because I needed a break from the wrestling match that was getting out of the house. Shoes and coats were irrelevant if we were just sitting in the car, and hair combing could wait. Sometimes, a change of scenery—with a side of fries and a cold drink—was just what I needed to power through those tough days.
In those early years, I managed to cope with exhaustion and frustration, even though I often felt guilty for not savoring every precious moment. I found solace in hiding away in the bathroom or calling my best friend while the kids napped. It may not have looked like I had it all together, but somehow, I did.
The beauty of young children is how quickly they can lift your spirits. Just when you feel like you’re losing it, they do something adorable that melts your heart. Their innocent laughter, the way they mispronounce words, and those sweet little kisses all remind you of the love you have for them. The struggles seem to fade rapidly, replaced by an overwhelming sense of affection and hope for their future.
However, my kids are older now, and navigating these new stages feels more challenging than I expected. They’re more self-sufficient and quiet, which brings a certain peace, but the issues we face now are significant and not easily brushed aside.
I can’t escape to the bathroom when my son wants to discuss sensitive topics like his friends’ behaviors online. When my daughter faces friendship dilemmas, there’s no naptime to fall back on. Life’s complexities are woven into their everyday experiences, and I can’t just ignore them. Fruit snacks won’t solve everything anymore, although they remain a pantry staple.
While I’ve emerged from the trenches of toddlerhood, I find myself grappling with issues that feel much heavier. We have to dress up and venture out daily, regardless of how we feel. My biggest hurdles now aren’t sleepless nights with teething babies; they’re the emotional challenges of pre-teen life that seem to envelop me. I miss the tenacity I had during those toddler years.
Yet, witnessing my daughter’s kindness as she befriends a lonely classmate or my son’s enthusiasm for volunteering at the local community center reminds me why this struggle is worthwhile. The growth, both theirs and mine, is what makes it all worth the effort.
In the end, sometimes a moment of quiet with a Diet Coke while staring out the window is just what I need to center myself.
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In summary, while the toddler years presented their own unique challenges, the emotional hurdles of raising older children can feel even more overwhelming. Yet, with every struggle comes the opportunity for growth—both for them and for us as parents.