... don't blink!

She practically bulldozed her way into my hospital room (and she must have been filling in for someone because I’d not seen her before). This snarky little twit of a nurse stared condescendingly down at my bed and said - with almost a snarl - ‘Oh My Gawwwwd! Put that poooor child back in her basinette! You are going to spoil her before you even get her home!”

Huh?
What?

WHO was she and WHAT was she saying?? There I was – twenty five years young and pretty much fresh outta the delivery room following the birth of my adorable baby girl (via a tough and unexpected emergency cesarean section) – just hours earlier.

I was thinking to myself, “Put her down? Spoil her? Don’t you realize I waited 25 years to hold her in my arms?” (I thought some other things but they really aren’t fit to print!) Whatta snot! Anyway -- the next time I saw this particular “care giver” (cough*cough*) was a few days later. I had my “food tray” pulled as close to my chest as I could get it while still cradling my daughter in my left arm so I could use my right arm to finish filling out my election ballot when …

Uh oh! The snark came back in (ha).

I actually tried to HIDE my daughter underneath the food tray! ;-) Not one to hold back on her (unsolicited) advice she huffed, “Well - pffft - I see you follow directions well.”

I pushed my tray back and without even acknowledging her comment I stood and waddled over to my daughter’s basinette. I laid her in the little bed and stared down at her for who knows how long – I just didn’t want to put her in there! Behind me I heard snarks haughty words, “There! Now that’s a good girl. Trust me -- you’ll thank me one day.”

I got back in bed, she took my vitals (I’m pretty sure my blood pressure was elevated at that minute) and she walked out of the room. I kept looking at my baby as she lay quietly resting. I completed my ballot and looked over at Kimberly who continued to lay quietly in that basinette. Sure, she was fine. She didn’t need me to hold her. But -- I wanted to go get her. I just felt so sheepish about Atilla coming back in the room so -- I stayed put. And I felt sad.

Not even 30 seconds later another nurse with the same colored print scrub top strolled quietly in to my room. Without a word – without even a glance my way – she went to the basinette; gently lifted my little girl up. Then she walked over to my bed, winked at me, put my baby in my arms, sat on the edge of my bed and said the following in little more than a soft whisper (and I promise you – the following is SO close to verbatim I am going to take the liberty of using quotes … it’s THAT close to her exact words):

“Here’s a little more unsolicited advice, Sweetie. You’ll do fine. And whether or not your little girl is content in that basinette or not … hold her when you wanna. Hold her when you can. Hold her when she’s crying. Hold her when she’s smiling. Hold her when you’re sleepy. Hold her when she’s sleepy. Hold her when she’s awake. Hold her when you’re awake. Hold her when she’s cranky. Hold her when you’re cranky. Hold her: Whenever/wherever. And sister – for the rest of your life just trust me – you will have people giving you their opinions of how to raise your baby. Some of those well meaning people will offer their feedback when you ask for it – other’s will offer their feedback even though you don’t want it. I just gave you my feedback and Miss Priss before me offered her feedback.”

She took a quick breath and continued, “Your mission – should you choose to accept it (wink* wink*) is to weed through ALLLLL of the words you will hear over the next 18 years – and decide for yourself what works for you. And above all else … DON’T BLINK! They will be grown before you know it!”

I swear to you – as I write these words down – I can remember this entire interaction as clear as day. She reached over to where my daughter was now comfortably cradled in my arms [staring up at me with the most endearing gaze – ha] and this dear nurse gently patted my new to me little girl’s arm, then continued – almost longingly –

“You know, my little boy turned four yesterday. He’s a love bug and he used to really like to snuggle! But now? Ha ha - NO WAY! NOW he wants to play and be rough and tumble. He’s too macho to nestle onto my lap and into my arms for a hug. Sometimes, at bed time – or when he’s running a fever – he’ll let me steal some cuddle time but for the most part – he’s done with that, thank you very much! And already I wish I could turn back the clock. But I can’t. And every day I watch him play with Lego's and matchbox cars I thank the good guy upstairs that I had the foresight to realize my time to hold and snuggle would be short lived.

Take these words with a grain of sand if you will but at least hear this much – THIS LITTLE GIRL IS YOURS – to have and to hold – until she’s grown. We really only have a short time to snuggle, cuddle, and read them their favorite books. Try to savor each and every moment and just do me ONE favor … don’t wish it away. Don’t blink.”

--------------------------
What a sweet, sweet person. And when she walked out of my room, I think I actually looked to see if maybe wings were being smooshed under her scrub top! (ha) Sooo many times over the years I have longed for an opportunity to thank her. But I have to be content and hope that karma smiled on her in some special way over the years!

But you know what? I did continue to hold my daughter that day – and when snarky sue came back in and told me to put her down I defiantly said, “No.” I said it with allll of the will and determination I could muster and I learned a lot that day. The look of shock on Attila’s face was pretty priceless and I must say I felt my first sense of empowerment as a mom!

From that moment on – I held my little girl wherever and whenever I wanted to. I approached babyhood the same way when her first brother arrived on scene two years later and then when her second brother arrived five years after her first brother. J And you know what – they all turned out okay. At ages 24, 22 and 18 respectively – none of them are nursing today, they are all potty trained – and they are sharp, great people! I did something right!

But … somewhere along the line … in the busy-ness of life … I forgot the nurse’s words *her warning if you will* because for one instant I forgot and …

I blinked. (sigh*)

And this coming weekend the last of my birdies – that first baby girls littlest baby brother – will be shipping off to boot camp.

It is now almost a full twenty five years after that memorable day back in the hospital when a sweet nurse told me to cherish the days because they would fly by. And - they - flew.

My friend … THEY F-L-E-W.

And this afternoon here I sit – in front of a computer – writing to you about those early days because …

… because I want YOU to know … this day that you are living will be over before you know it. The stresses of your morning, your mounds of laundry, the endless sticky mess on your kitchen floor, the ring around your tub, the sink full of dishes, the crayon marks on your wall(s?) and ... the milk on your table near a half eaten bowl of Cheerios …

All too soon these will be a thing of the past.

And I can guarantee … you WILL miss these minutes! In only a few days my house will be very quiet.

*Deafeningly quiet.

So as I prepare for the silence and get ready to turn the page into a new chapter of this book that is my life allow me if you will to share some *unsolicited* advice, okay? ;-)

For You:

• The mom at home who is in the midst of chaos or calm.
• The mom who has to glean through oodles of unsolicited advice on a daily basis and try to decipher what will work best for you.
• The mom who is so exhausted she doesn’t know how she will make it through the day.
• The mom who is wide awake with worry because baby has just spiked yet another fever, or is cutting the first (or yet another) tooth, having another tantrum or – much to your chagrin – just pooped the mustard out of her diaper as you’re headed to your first portrait setting. (Did I mention you were already running late?)

Ahhh – I’ve been there my friend. And I don’t think I’m exaggerating one bit when I say I’d give almost anything to be back there for even just one day – one minute. I wish I could cuddle my baby, nurse him/her, read a story alongside their potty chair as they are learning to master this important milestone.

Just this past weekend the *gods* were merciful to me when my eighteen year old “bound for boot camp” guy had a house full of teens over. Wouldn’t you know they turned on Walt Disney’s “Peter Pan” (yep, the VHS tape)! Between that and a Pokemon DVD I was able to, once again, listen to the sounds of their childhood and – I’m honestly not trying to be overly dramatic when I say – the sounds were heaven to my ears!

I wish I could say I was the “perfect” parent.
I wish I could say I was patient all the time.
I wish I could say I never made mistakes.
I wish I could say I never spoke out of anger and always disciplined from that perfect place of gentleness and calm. 
I wish I could say I never wished a moment away.
I wish I could say I enjoyed every single moment and have no regrets.

But alas … I cannot honestly say one those things. Because yes – I, too, had my moments and I had my days. But I can say that, looking back, I’m a proud momma and, overall, I did a good job.

My birds grew strong, sharp, determined wings and they will soar successfully outside of the nest – I just know it! And one day if they are so blessed, they, too, will have a little birdie to cuddle. And I will offer my (cough* cough*) unsolicited advice (maybe in the form of this writing!) … and tell them to wade through all of the well intentioned words of others and do what works best for them.

· I will tell them to hold their baby when they wanna.
· I will tell them to always order school pictures even when funds are tight.
· I will tell them not to paint over the penciled growth charts on their wall and … leave at least one of those crayon drawings on a wall behind.
· I will tell them time flies.
· I will tell them to relax because their child won’t go to high school still stuck to your boob; and they will, one day, be successfully potty trained!
I will tell them to pray whenever/wherever.  It's like holding your child - you really can't ever pray too often either!
· I will tell them not to sweat the small stuff and that guy who wrote the book was right – it’s ALL small stuff!
· I will tell them not to use a paddle ball as a paddle (no explanation needed!) and that even one drop of hot sauce on the tongue after a “naughty word” is one drop of sauce too many!
· I will tell them that nobody knows their child like they do
· I will tell them to listen to their gut/instinct. Always!
· I will tell them you will never be as perfect as you want to be.
· I will tell them you will never please everybody so … don’t even try!

And while there are many, MANY other things I will probably think to tell them when that time comes the main thing I will definitely REMEMBER to tell them is:

DON’T BLINK!

PS 
And to that dear sweet nurse, whoever you are/wherever you are, if by chance you happen to read these words just know,

“ I will forever be indebted to you for giving me the fair warning about those early childhood days flying by. You were so right! And I love you for taking time to give me the heads up! Sincerely, A Thankful Mom!”