I knew every moment of their day…now it’s all in a text

#21 Lenten Reflections

I was scrolling through the first 200-plus(!) pages of a journal I kept when the kids were little, and happened upon a daily schedule I drafted for Cora and Dexter when they were one and two years old.

I drafted it in preparation for the arrival of our third member of the “Irish triplets”. I had folded the onesies, unpacked the sun-faded baby Bjorn, scoured the toilets, and read “I’m a big sister/brother” books ad nauseam. Our cozy 1,400-square-foot townhome in Falls Church, VA was dusted, decorated, and definitely ready for Zavier. I pretended I was ready like I do before big things happen, but the unknown was as terrifying as it was terrific.

Luckily, our dear neighbors agreed to take care of our kids while I got a “night off” – I was excited about the hospital in Arlington where our charming Dr. Crowther from England was waiting for us. Her posh, polite voice sounded like the queen was monitoring my contractions. “Looks all good so far…Nice weather innit? Back in a jiffy”.

Here’s a snippet of what I left the neighbors…looking back I was amazed at how I knew every moment of the kid’s day…

Back then…I was pretty detailed.

I knew Cora loved peas and Dexter would forcefully spit out his sweet potatoes. I knew their favorite water bottles (yellow with red lids), and I memorized all the best books on repeat: Go! Dog! Go! “One big dog going…” –UP! “One little dog going…” –DOWN!

Then I blinked.

Literally, blinked, and off they went to school one by one and other people started guiding and teaching them stuff. Outside influencers! All I knew was what I sent them to school with and the “suggested” supply lists were loaded with things like Clorox Wipes, pencil pouches, and Skittles aka “smart pills” for good behavior. Let’s just say the Skittles did not make it to school. I was THAT mom who sent stickers instead. Soon you are simply picking up and dropping them off, reminding, yelling, and then listening before bed. As parents, we know everything if they talk to us or ask way too many questions if they don’t. Little by little I knew less and less of their lives.

Now… I don’t even know the classes they take and just learned their majors. When anyone/Dad asks me excitedly “How many hours are the kids carrying this semester?” I take a guess “Probably fifteen”.

Dad is their biggest fan, “Fifteen?! Well, that’s enough! They are workers! And their grades, holy toledo! I was happy getting a C in accounting and these kids are getting A’s!”

Back then, I knew their moods:

Now…I get glimpses into their days…a sunrise, or a note to say they are exhausted or have poison ivy, back pain, or a paper due.

They say good night…

Send mascara recommendations…

And sometimes they even take care of me and I get sweet messages like this:

What I learned:

As our children grow up, it is like watching a Polaroid photo develop slowly…letting a little light in as it begins to show the outline of a shape on the paper. You shake and shake that photo then realize that is what you have left, what you are holding in your hands. But this is how this goes? Every day with someone for 18 solid years and this is the ending?

But it gets better and I remember what wonderful Gabriel Garcia Marquez said:

“Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mother gives birth to them. Rather, life obliges them over and over to give birth to themselves.”