gratitude-a-thon day 834: they REALLY weren’t easy


Even though I have an 18 and 21 year old, I read this article on some babies being easier than others, because, well, because I know it to be true. I lived it. And I didn’t have the easy ones.

My gratitude here, in case you were wondering, is that I no longer have those babies (of course, I’d give anything to have them again, diffiuclt as they were).

Neither of my little bundles of absolute adorable slept through the night until they were two. I have never recovered from that lost sleep, and if you see me today, and think I look tired, this is why. Unlike my husband, who could get up, feed them, and drop off into slumberland within seconds of returning to bed, I would be up for hours on end after a crying episode.

Jake was the kind of baby that was into everything, all the time. He was a demolition derby of one, a roller coaster of movement, a baby tsunami. And active? He was active in mind and body from the get go. “Go” being the imperative word.

Ally cried for the first six months of her life. THE. FIRST. SIX. MONTHS. OF. HER. LIFE. Yes, that happened. Consequently, I too cried for much of the first six months of her life. Once she stopped, she was delightful, but she too was not a docile reader, no she also had an active little mind and body, and she liked to talk (wherever did she get that from, I wonder).

It was hard to see other kids actually sit down at the beach, a concept I would never know when I had babies. The beach is my favorite place in the world, a relaxing mix of sun, sea and sand makes me smile like an idiot, but when my kids were little, it was a place that meant just trying to keep them alive. It was us against ocean. When we were at the beach, I lived with a perpetual loop of a chain of people wading through the water looking for my drowned child. I don’t even know why we used to go back then. It was like doing an Iron Man to entertain your baby, and prevent them from sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

I envied the parents who had children who behaved, were still in a restuarant, could walk quietly through a store, without turning it into an Olympic running event. I longed to sit with my kids and do art projects, and we did, for like four seconds, before they were gooooooonnnnnnnnnne.

I loved them then. Every drop of them. But they were not easy babies. Not easy toddlers. That’s just how it was, and that’s just how it is. Some babies are easy and some are not. You’re lucky if you get an easy one, but if you don’t, you will live. And they will live and flourish, too. You can’t imagine it at the time. But I’m here to tell the story. You may have bags under your eyes for the rest of your life, but it will be worth the ride.




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