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Going Back to Baby

A few nights ago I went to back to school night at my daughter’s school. As I sat listening to her teacher tell us what to expect in the third grade, it hit me that five years from now I’ll be starting all over again. The search for the right school, the angst of sending my little one off for the first time, the challenge of a new schedule. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it freaked me out.

I’m starting from scratch. I’m going back to baby.

Our little family had gotten comfortable over the last few years. Ayva was nearly 8-years-old when Jamie was born, and has been independent for some time. She makes her own lunch. Remembers her own schedule. We are extra fortunate because she isn’t the type of only child who needs constant attention from her parents, either. When I look at how things used to be, I guess we had it kind of easy.

I promise I’m not complaining. We all agree that Jamie absolutely completes our lives. He’s the piece of our family puzzle that we didn’t realize was missing. Now that he’s here, there’s no way we could live without him.

But babies are hard.

We’re all getting used to the hour of crying he does every evening right when our favorite televisions shows start.

There’s no more running out to catch the library before it closes, because by the time we get the baby strapped in the car seat, our time is up.

There’s a lot more planning. Less spontaneity.

I don’t miss it.

Too much.

We’re starting over.

Thinking about starting over—going through teething and potty training, that does scare me a bit. I didn’t remember all of those things when I was trying to conceive. They slipped my mind all during my pregnancy. I wasn’t thinking about any of that during the first couple of months of Jamie’s life. Now that he’s rolling over, sitting up, and trying to crawl, I’m starting to remember the baby stage and all of the challenges that come along with it again.

Going back to baby can feel a little lonely. The friends that I made over the last few years have to get used to me being different. My focus is diverted again. I have to cut meetings short to get home to a hungry little one. Now, I’m planning trips based on how long I think Jamie can manage in a car or on the plane.

I’m not the same mom I was five months ago. I’m not the same me I was five months ago.

I’ve gone back to baby. In spite of all of the challenges and anxiety filled moments I have to relive, there really isn’t any other place I’d rather be.