A Measure of Success

Moms use many things to gauge their success as a parent. Comparing themselves to others, for example. But sometimes, we just know when we've done something right. Or when we haven't.

I recently realized something I didn't do right and now I can't go back in time and do anything about it. And I am one to lament missed opportunities because I have a bit of an obsessive personality. Not the good obsessive that would mean I have a clean house, but the kind of obsessive that means I don't let things go.

So here is my confession: I have failed to keep track of my two beautiful children's milestones. Any of them. I have no idea when they got their first teeth. Learning to walk? A guess, at best. But the one that is on my mind the most is measuring them. They have grown so tall! All I want to see is a record of them shooting up like weeds. I want one of those charts that good parents have showcasing growth spurts and month by month changes.

I know I could start one now, but it's a bit late. Hannah will be five in a month. I want those first five years tracked! I want to see her from a teeny, tiny baby to the willowy girl she is today. I want to compare how and when she grew to how and when Jacob is growing. But I can't. And I never will get those years back. No matter how much I obsess about it.

The Masterful Stall

I am a big fan of quick, easy bedtimes. Put on your p.j.s, brush your teeth, read some stories, then lights out. No drama. No delays. Depending on the story, everyone is tucked in and quiet in under ten minutes. I don't like to linger... until very recently when Jacob discovered a "new" stalling technique. None of his others had worked, but with this one, he's hit a jackpot. At least judging from the last two nights. 

It goes a little something like this...

Jacob (when the final story is done): My snuggling with you (staring straight into my eyes).

Me: Okay, just for a minute. (Really, this is quite precious.)

Jacob (sensing movement): I want to whisper something in your ear.

Me: Okay, what? (I want him to share his secrets with me, after all.)

Jacob (while starting to play with my hair): My like snuggling.

Me: Me, too.

Jacob (again sensing movement): Nope, not done yet! (Said in this special cherubic voice he reserves for occasions when he needs to be really cute.)

And of course, the whole time he is snuggled right up against me, looking so sweet and cuddly with his big innocent eyes. Oh yes, he's figured it out. Whining, pleading, dying of thirst - none of those work. But the snuggle! How can a mother resist?

I can't. And now bedtimes are much longer. But I don't mind at all.