My daughter, son-in-law, brand-new grandson, Henry, and 2-year-old granddaughter, Mavis, live in a house attached to ours.
It is one of my life’s biggest privileges to be able to be this close to them.
It means that we can share dinners, I can help with bath time, or we can all go out blowing dandelions and explore the neighborhood.
Every night, around 7:00, I can hear the trampling of Mavis’ footsteps and her shrieks as she resists the thought of going to bed and playfully starts running, hoping it’s something that THIS TIME she can avoid.
Surely, there will be one night.
Just one.
Mavis hates bedtime, or even just resting at all.
It’s gotten so bad that she doesn’t even want us saying words associated with it.
The other day, while eating lunch, we asked if she wanted the REST of her sandwich, and her eyes got wide quickly, and she corrected, “No. I don’t want WHAT IS LEFT OF IT.”
In Mavis’ mind, all those sleep-related phrases?
They are for the birds.
Our wood floors and walls, therefore, shake every night as she tries to avoid it;
Not unlike a train running right on schedule,
we can look at the clock and know when the rumbling is about to come.
When I hear this, I know that on the other side of the garage, my daughter and son-in-law are over on their side of the house saying, “Mavis Sophia, come back here.”
(Middle name for emphasis)
I know they are trying to teach good listening skills and following a schedule.
I know all parents want a child who listens to their words.
I remember being a young mom of a toddler when a brand-new baby had appeared at home.
Your body is tired.
You can’t see straight.
By 7:00, you are much more ready for compliance than for any more shenanigans.
But sitting here, over on this side,
I know that I can always count on a smile at 7:00.
The sound of it takes me back to a time when I was the one with all the books pulled out of their bookshelf, and toys strewn all over the floor;
When every night I’d start in again, picking up the same toys, and I’d sigh, feeling like I was in a hamster wheel, every day, of the same five chores.
Over here, where I watched as my own girls once ran around shrieking at bedtime,
but now the shrieking has mostly stopped.
Over here, where the other 3 girls left at home are all teenagers, in school and working jobs.
They never tell you how much you’ll miss it all one day when those shrieking footsteps stop.
One day the toys all get replaced with devices and power cords.
One day those same gleeful squeals are heard more often while they are on the phone with their friends behind closed doors.
One day it will feel like there are ghosts in your halls of every two-year-old that once roamed there, back when life felt kind of hard,
and you’ll sit up at night and gaze down it, realizing the wish for peace you had way back then is what you got;
But now it doesn’t always feel quite the same way that you had thought.
You realize the books were portholes,
and the toys made life colorful.
Those tiny fingerprints on your mirrors are the autographs of some of the most interesting people you ever saw,
and those shrieks? They were the sound of freedom, and a child’s beautiful passion for it.
One day you will find yourself wishing for one more hectic day,
and one more sleepless night when their body lay heavy on you, and you could feel their eyelashes flutter on your cheek as you rocked them in the dark.
They say the grass is always greener.
That even applies to your motherhood.
I know they want Mavis to listen,
and so do I.
I know the parents are to be respected,
and I hope she does.
I definitely know they think that Grammy is much too soft;
But on this side of the house
AND of life
I just know how important it is to cherish those fleeting, tiny-foot stampedes
for however long you’ve got.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
