It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it happened, but it did. Was it this summer? Perhaps it started last fall? Maybe it was a sudden epiphany, like a cosmic explosion that I somehow overlooked, or was it a slow, gradual transition that crept up on me? Regardless of how it unfolded, here we are, entrenched in the in-between years.
There were moments when I genuinely doubted we would reach this stage. I envisioned us perpetually stuck in the Groundhog Day loop of babyhood, toddler tantrums, and preschool activities. I was convinced that parenthood would be a never-ending cycle of diaper duty, nap time chaos, and endless time-outs.
Now, both of my kids are in school—one in kindergarten and the other in third grade—and they no longer neatly fit the established categories of childhood. We’ve moved past the Jekyll-and-Hyde antics of the baby and toddler phases. Yes, they still exhibit “threenager” behavior now and then, but those instances are becoming rarer. We’re not quite in the whirlwind of adolescence yet, and we’re still several years away from the empty nest era. My sons are in that fascinating space of being both big and small, and it’s quite the balancing act.
The in-between years mean they’re just old enough to ask about the birds and the bees, yet they still cling to the idea of Santa Claus. We’ve escaped the rigidity of nap and bedtime schedules, while still enjoying the occasional tuck-in and cozy blankie snuggle. Instead of t-ball, we now cheer for kid-pitch baseball, where you can always find at least one player shedding tears on the sidelines. Our summer adventures have included sleepovers, cannonballs off the diving board, parades, and splashing in the kiddie pool. We’ve watched everything from “The Hobbit” and “Guardians of the Galaxy” to “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse” and “Gravity Falls.” They can shower independently, but bathing is still an every-other-day affair, thankfully free from the teenage aroma of body odor.
There’s something enchanting about these in-between years. It’s a delicate balance where the demands of parenting align with the sweetness of childhood. My children still need me, but in a way that feels less frantic and more serene. They say these years are the “sweet spot” for good reason.
Yet, amid the sweetness, there’s an underlying unease. With each step toward independence, I can feel the threads of childhood starting to fray. I’m also keenly aware of the stormy chaos that’s waiting in the wings. The in-between years are a blend of relief, anxiety, excitement, fear, satisfaction, and confusion.
These years aren’t just transitional for my kids; they are for me as well. For the past nine years, I’ve been a stay-at-home parent, and my children’s routines created my own. But now that my youngest is in kindergarten, I can sense the vast world beckoning—a thrilling yet daunting prospect.
Some days, embracing this new phase feels like stepping on scorching sand. I tread lightly and hastily, making snap decisions about what to do next, fearful that I might miss out on fleeting moments or opportunities. Other days, I feel like I’m sinking into a heavy, sticky quicksand, grappling with shifting roles and new responsibilities.
Most days, though, it feels like strolling along a beach with wet, firm sand beneath my feet. The tide may be coming in or out—who knows? Before long, the landscape will shift, and I’ll need to adapt. But for now, the shore feels soft, cool, and inviting.
So today, I’m choosing to focus on the “for now” part. Right now, the in-between years are just where I want to be.
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Summary:
The article reflects on the unique phase of parenting known as the in-between years, where children are simultaneously growing up and still holding onto childhood. The author shares personal experiences and observations about the joys and challenges of this transitional period, emphasizing the balance between nurturing independence and maintaining connection.