Favorite Photo Friday - Then and Now

Look at my boys! Jack (left) and Luke (right) at Disney probably when they were about two and three. I thought I would never forget, but I have. I can't remember how they looked when they were this little. I have baby pictures that I can't tell which boy it is. How do you forget these things??

I remember when they were just babies and sometimes, someone would say to me,"it gets a lot harder." And I would think to myself "You just don't remember. You don't remember the smell of the blowout poopy diapers. You don't remember following them around the playground while your friends with older kids sat and talked. You don't remember the crushing feeling on your chest when you realize that you are completely responsible for this little life - 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You don't remember the severe sleep deprivation."

Now I know that "someone" was right. It gets so much harder. When they are infants and babies, your job is pretty clear cut. Feed them, change them, bathe them, take them to the doctor, make sure they don't die. As long as you did these things, you were doing the right thing. Unless you were completely incompetent, you really couldn't mess it up.

Since my boys are still alive, you can assume that I did a good job in the beginning.

Now that they are older, the rules are not so clear cut. The answer is not so black and white. If you make the wrong decision, you may change the destiny of their entire life. My life is one of constant worry. Am I sending them to the right school? Am I raising a good citizen, husband, father? Should I push them into sports or music? Should I reward good grades? Will they remember that I threatened to tell all their friends that they pooped their pants? (his response, "that would be worser." I cry when I think about it). Is that what they will be telling their therapist in 20 years?

Throw a special needs child into the mix and you are in a constant state of anxiety.

And all those things you excused when they were babies, like not eating the food you cooked and telling you that they don't like you, really start to irk you when they do it when they are old enough to know better. I didn't sign up for that kind of abuse. I don't like it one bit. Sometimes I feel like I gave up so much for these little creatures and they could not care less. It is the ultimate thankless job. Yet, we are supposed to just smile and love them no matter what.

But what you really don't know until you get there is that you will feel every success and every loss that your children feel as if it were your very own. It is like there is an invisible umbilical cord that is still attached to their hearts. When they hurt, you hurt. When they celebrate, you celebrate. It multiplies by the number of children that you have. I ride the same roller coaster of emotions that Cole rides. I feel the same frustrations that Luke feels.

I can't believe that I am saying this, but I long for the days when I could strap them into their bouncy seat and they would laugh and laugh. Sure, I was doing a lot of physical work, but I knew where they were and no one was going to hurt them. I was sleep deprived, but I knew that as long as they were fed, they were okay.

Why didn't someone tell me this BEFORE I had children? They did. I just didn't listen. I thought I would be different. I'm not. "Someone" was right. It gets so much harder.